Death the leveller poem appreciation
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James Shirley’s ‘Death the Leveller’ is a hauntingly philosophical poem about the dismal march of death that tramples down human pride and pomp. It presents a vividly personified picture of death as the ultimate conqueror in whose realm perfect equality prevails.
The poem opens, reminding the reader of the futility of taking pride in one’s birth and state. No armour offers protection from the merciless hands of death. The ultimate leveller comes and lays his icy hands on kings and clowns alike. The sceptre and the crown of the king fall down and lie equal in the dust with the poor peasant’s scythe and spade.
Worldly victory and success too are futile before death. Some men reap and heap enemy heads in the battlefield and win laurels to adorn their heads. They too shall bow their heads before death. But poor mortals still tame and kill one another like thoughtless beasts.
Strength and courage too shall pass. We all die helpless and weak. The garlands on our heads wither and lose their charm and the victories they once proclaimed are forgotten. We too lose our charm and like pale captives we creep to death with a feeble murmur. Death’s altar is purple and no ‘blue blood’ has ever been shed there. Here the victors too, are victims. The winners too are sacrificed and sent to their cold tombs.
In the end, we must return to the dust from which we all came, but the good deeds of the just will blossom from the dust and smell sweet forever.