The peace of nations is our all in all—
On you will come the blame of all the land
If those strong efforts fall
That we have used of late.
This isle, once fairest spot in all the earth,
This one small isle that boasts the name of “Free”—
Poor England! what will that fair name be worth,
And what will be thy “prestige” presently,
At war with every State?
You—you—who grovel still at Jingo’s feet,