The Death Of Nelson

We were led down three ship's ladders
to the Orlop deck — third and lowest
and safest on the ship.
Here went the wounded in battle.
Here, marked by the well–known picture
and scarlet draperies and flags,
was the very place where Nelson died.
Hard by stood a man–sized barrel,
replica of the one that carried him
pickled in brandy, home on the long sea–journey.
Not caring for burial at sea
the hero himself had wished it.

Later we saw the barge
that rowed the body, properly coffined,
from Greenwich to St Paul's.
It was already old, built for the Merry Monarch,
long and low and elegant, the seat at the stern
where the king would sit
painted with Britannia.
The artist used for model
the current mistress of King Charles.
Nelson would not have minded.
Having his own beloved,
he understood that heroes and kings
have need of more than a wife.


© The Estate of Dorothy Cowlin 2005–2021. All rights reserved.

This poem is known to have appeared in the following publication:

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