Ian Anderson
The Pax Britannica
I came to woo you at behest of
Uncle Leo, did my best
To charm and flatter, sooth, lay thoughts
Of scheming Saxon Prince to rest
Just seventeen, you were emboldened
Turned away plain Orange boy
And made for me a consort haven
In your heart, haven of joy

Now Empire spills a growing blot
Across the atlas, leaves its mark
The hands of men in iron ships stoke
Their boilers, fan the spark
Generous in deed and promise, our
Emissaries make fair trade
And pay with sovereign Queenly coin for goods
And worldly fortunes made

We will win them and contain them
Not by Enfield Pattern gun:
No hard coercion, whip or stick but
Ten good shillings to be won
See, we offer contracts clear in
English, plain as it appears
In small print, some trifling matters:
Not important, never fear
Pax Britannica, Pax Britannica, rules
The headland and the wave
Hansa spirit will enrich us, keep
Us from an early grave
Sweet Victoria, Mother England
Gracious queen whom God will save

We'll leave them gifts of architecture
Engineering, laws and more
The willow bat, the bowler hat of
Gentlemen who keep the score
Head-up code of moral conduct
Never minions to deceive
Straight the ball and, best of all, when
Time is come, we take our leave

Pax Britannica, Pax Britannica, rules
The headland and the wave
Hansa spirit will enrich us, keep
Us from an early grave
My sweet Victoria, your dearest Albert;
Two ledger lines above the stave