Ivor Gurney sets up a bitter contrast between two kinds of death. Princes and kings are buried with purple robes, golden trumpets, and grand ceremony, even when their lives were selfish or cruel and their deaths were frightened and lonely. Society still tells their story as glorious. But the mother of a soldier—a real hero—is left wearing black, the color of death, weeping in sentimental hymns. Gurney’s speaker thinks this is backwards. The mother should not be diminished by mourning; she should walk proudly among all that royal pageantry and say, “This was my son.” The mood is somber and indignant, with a defiant love underneath. It mourns not just a lost son but the failure to see where true nobility lies.
Purple and Black — Summary
The death of princes is Honoured most greatly, Proud kings put purple on In manner stately. Though they have lived such life As God offends, Gone fearful down to death, Sick, without friends. And in the temple dim, Trumpets of gold Proclaim their glory; so Their story is told. In sentimental hymns Weeping her dolour, The mother of heroes wears Vile black--Death’s colour, Who should walk proudly with The noblest one Of all that purple throng-- “This was my son.”