Author: Henry Lawson
Let us sing in tear-choked numbers how the Duke of Clarence went, Just to make a royal sorrow rather more pre-eminent. Ladies sighed and sobbed and drivelled, toadies spoke with bated breath, And the banners floating half-mast made a mockery of death, And they said Australia sorrowed for the Princes death, they lied! She had done with kings and princes ere the Duke of Clarence died. Whats a death in lofty places? Whats a noble birth?, say I, To the poor who die in hundreds, as a man should never die? Can they shed a tear, or sorrow for a royal dunces fate? No! for royalty has taught them how to sing the songs of hate; Oer the sounds of grief in Europe, and the lands across the tide Rose the growl of revolution, when the Duke of Clarence died. We, it matters not how lonely our oer-burdened lives are spent, Claim in common with a Clarence, straight from Adam our descent! Even the man they call a bastard has a lineage to himself, Though he traces not his fathers through the sordid line of Guelph, And, perhaps in some foul garret in his misery and pride, One of Natures Kings was dying when the Duke of Clarence died. Ah! the workgirls bloodless fingers, in the plundered human hive, Sew the banners of rebellion, while the kings and princes thrive; In the cold of northern winter, in the south in dust and heat, Weary workmen preach sedition at the corners of the street. They pre-eminent in sorrow! tis pre-eminence in cheek; We shall hear what care and pain is when the slums begin to speak; Hundreds starved to pay the shadow of a crown upon his head! Yellow gold (at last impotent) fought with death beside his bed. And, perhaps, a Prince of Nature sat despairing by the side Of a noble mother STARVING when the Duke of Clarence died. Ignoble living, splendid dead! behold the pomp of royal woe! Lo, the funeral! battle-hero never yet was buried so. Who and what was he? What has he done to benefit mankind? Has he nought to show Saint Peter save a royal race behind? Who is worthy? Who is noble? God! shall gold alone decide? Better men like dogs were buried ere the Duke of Clarence died. Thrones of earth and earthly rulers soon shall all be swept aside, And twere better for his comfort that the Duke of Clarence died.
Type of Poem: Satirical
Date Written:
Date Published:
Language: English
Keywords: Public Domain
Source: Public Domain Collection
Publisher:
Rights/Permissions: Public Domain
Comments/Notes: This poem is a stark critique of royalty and the class system, juxtaposing the grandeur of the 'Duke of Clarence's' death with the harsh realities of the common man's life. The author uses the Duke's death to expose the deep-seated inequalities of society, underlining the hypocrisy of mourning a single privileged life while many others suffer unnoticed. The tone is defiant, challenging the reader to question the status quo, and is underscored by a strong sense of social justice.
The poem's structure is consistent, employing a regular rhythm and rhyme scheme which lends a sense of authority to its argument. The recurring mention of the Duke of Clarence's death is used as a refrain, reinforcing the contrast between his privileged position and the plight of the oppressed. The poem's language is direct and accessible, characterised by powerful imagery such as 'workgirls bloodless fingers' and 'a noble mother STARVING', which serve to emphasise the harsh circumstances of the lower classes. The poet also uses rhetorical questions to engage the reader and provoke thought on the issues raised. Overall, the poem is a stirring call to reevaluate societal values, using the death of a royal figure as a catalyst for critical reflection on social inequality.