'
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of flow'rs,
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 blesséd plot, this earth, this realm, this island....

Originally Posted by Greger
Is your little Island well defended? Armaments in place to prevent the looting by thousands of hungry Americans storming your shores, raping and pillaging? If I were you I'd be hoping against all hope that America comes to it's senses and gets on with working, investing, producing, and governing.
Well, there is certainly no hope that America will come to its senses---it never has in the past.

How typically American to think that we need guns to defend ourselves here. One month of Canadian passive-aggressive snide humour would send Americans shrieking back to the south.

Moreover, they woud never get here in the first place. How many Americans can read a map, or know what is beyond their limited ken? Canada is a great, blank void in the minds of most Americans, and long may it continue so ! And as for the few who discovered Canada, a great gulf of water sepaarates me from you. Moreover, if any Americans ever did escape from Victoria's tourist ghetto, all that is needed is to raise the Canadian dollar above the value of the American dollar in order to drive the buyers of shoddy trinkets screaming back across the borders !

Let them mourn for their own country, a land which once had such bright prospects for becoming truly worth while.

This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out---I die pronouncing it---
Like to a tenement or pelting farm:
Yankland, bound in with the triumphant sea
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds:
That Yankland, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.