310
Fleet Street Eclogue
Who saved old Scotland from its friends,
Were mighty northern Englishmen.
Were mighty northern Englishmen.
Brian.
And Parnell, who so greatly fought
To make a mob people, then
With Fate inevitably wrought
That Irish should be Englishmen.
And Parnell, who so greatly fought
To make a mob people, then
With Fate inevitably wrought
That Irish should be Englishmen.
Basil.
By bogland, highland, down, and fen,
All Englishmen, all Englishmen!
By bogland, highland, down, and fen,
All Englishmen, all Englishmen!
Menzies.
There is no England now, I say—
There is no England now, I say—
Brian.
No England now? My grief, my grief!
No England now? My grief, my grief!
Menzies.
We lie widespread, the dragon-prey
Of any Cappadocian thief.
In Arctic and Pacific seas
We lounge and loaf; and either pole
We reach with sprawling colonies—
Unwieldy limbs that lack a soul.
We lie widespread, the dragon-prey
Of any Cappadocian thief.
In Arctic and Pacific seas
We lounge and loaf; and either pole
We reach with sprawling colonies—
Unwieldy limbs that lack a soul.
Basil.
