You did not heed my counsel sane,
And are now at sixes and sevens;
In the larger brotherhood of man,
There are no parochial heavens.

Proverbial cat in the adage you,
That covets the other’s fish,
But keeping your English feet above
The wet and watery dish.

No common market now for you,
If you will not share the same
With common people everywhere
Who have not a British name.

And if the Scots go their way,
And the Irish follow soon;
Little England will be your abode,
And Great Britain dead and gone.

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