Several of the poets appointed by, or inherited by the Queen, had to deal with public mockery. No wonder Philip Larkin turned down the role
“Oh, God, the royal poem!” John Betjeman wrote to a friend early in his laureateship. “Send the H[oly] G[host] to help me over that fence. So far no sign: watch and pray.” For a woman who wasn’t noted for a deep interest in literature, the Queen was served by some highly skilled poets laureate. Yet almost all found the job burdensome, and none produced his or her best work while wearing the laurels – certainly nothing to match, say, Tennyson’s Charge of the Light Brigade.
The official verse they wrote in some ways mirrors changing attitudes towards the monarchy over the course of Elizabeth II’s long reign. Though, given that most holders of the job have written poems on a wide range of themes – not just to mark royal hatches, matches and dispatches – it’s fair to say that their work reflects broader shifts in social and political concerns.
…The crown translates a woman to a Queen
endless gold, circling itself, an O like a well,
This lady whom we crown was born
When buds were green upon the thorn
You are bridge-builders still. Only, today
You draw six towns into a visioned O,
To work then, islanders, as men and women
Members one of another, looking beyond
Your mother’s grace, your father’s gallantry
Go with you now to nerve and cheer you
Then, sir, you said what shook me through
So that my courage almost fails:
