This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise;
This fortress, built by nature for herself,
Against infection, and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world;
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England



Prepare to die you Limey pigs.

They don't call them the Magoggian Irish for nothing and the Welsh tribes didn't speak Gomeraeg, the language of Gomer, because it sounded cool.