Of England’s hate, hot battle shot,
Blent, ever blent, with scorn and jeers?
And we survived it, did we not?
We bore her hate, let’s try to bear
Her love; but watch her and beware!
Beware the Greek with gifts and fair
Kind promises and courtly praise.
Beware the serpent’s subtle ways—
There’s mischief in the air!
Alliance! And for what? With whom?