The Duke was in his hammock and a thousand miles away ('@3London on the line, your Grace; for you@1') Slung between the beech trees, one limpid day in May ('@3Bertie here — we're rather in a stew@1 ...') Yonder lay Westminster, yonder lay the House With politicians, oily through and through, And the endless gabbin' and the old back-stabbin'; But he saw his duty plainly as he'd always used to do. The Duke is a backwoodsman, and keeps his backwoods ground, (@3'London on the line, your Grace; for you'@1) Doesn't study politics, but knows which side is sound (@3'Bertie here — we're rather in a stew'@1) Call him from the grouse-moor, call him from the hunt, Call him when you need a vote or two. If you need ammunition to kill the opposition, He'll drum 'em through the lobbies as he's always used to do. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 94 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ABRAHAM LINCOLN (1) by RICHARD HENRY STODDARD IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 7 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE THORN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH DRINKING SONG (4) by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE TO TWO BEREAVED by THOMAS ASHE |