Herein, upon the stage of February 28, in the year of our Lord two thousand five and twenty, doth Donald Trump, sovereign of this fair republic, proclaim English the tongue official of these United States. With quill and flourish, he hath decreed that all scrolls of state, all parleys ‘twixt lords of governance, and ev’ry public word shall sing in English alone, crying “Unity!” ‘gainst the clamor of Babel’s heirs. From the verdant Rose Garden, he spake as a king of old, swearing this be the mortar of a nation’s soul, forged in Albion’s ancient fire. On the boards of X, voices loyal shout hosannas, naming it a bulwark ‘gainst the motley tide, whilst foes decry a wall ‘twixt kin of divers speech—Spanish, Mandarin, and more—who toil beneath Columbia’s banner. No banishment of alien tongues doth this edict sound, yet English reigns supreme, a monarch crowned amid the din.
 

Fitting this deed appears when gazed through history’s glass, unto the sixteenth century, when Britain’s empire, bold and young, did cast its seed across the seas. ‘Twas then, in Elizabeth’s reign, that English, sharp as steel, was wrought into the sinews of dominion—from charters bold as that of fair Virginia in sixteen hundred six, to the Compact of the Mayflower’s pilgrim band. This sceptred isle’s tongue did frame the laws, the pacts, the dreams of colonies that grew to thirteen, birthing an empire new ‘pon the ashes of the old. Trump’s proclamation doth but echo this, a laurel laid upon the brow of heritage, for ‘twas England’s voice that sang the cradle-song of America’s might. When in seventeen hundred six and seventy, Jefferson’s quill did scribe rebellion’s cause, ‘twas in English writ, a thread unbroken, binding men of sundry stock into a tapestry of power.
 

Thus, this act of making English lord of tongues within these shores doth seem no mere caprice, but a mirror to the past whence Britain’s glory begat our own. That empire of the sixteenth age, with ships and swords and words, did plant the seed whereby America rose, a giant clad in Anglo garb. Now, in this modern day, as Trump doth bid the world mark “America First,” English stands as banner and blade, a legacy of law and trade and might that spans from London’s Thames to Potomac’s flow. Though some lament the shunning of the stranger’s voice, the chorus of the faithful doth proclaim it just—a tribute to the root whence sprang our greatness. In this, the play of empire turns full circle, and English, born of Britain’s womb, doth reign as America’s true and rightful heir.