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A Drinker's Companion to English Verse

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This Poem Is Best Viewed With A Glass Of

Rebel Yell Bourbon Whiskey
or
Bush Pilot's Corn Whiskey



To an Athlete Dying Young

A. E. Housman

1887

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay,
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honors out,
Runners whom reknown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before the echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.


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Published in 1998-2004 by Dennis McCarthy, no rights reserved.
To the best of this editor's knowledge, the above poem is public domain in the United States.
Unauthorized copying is encouraged.
The editor does not claim to know the copyright status of this work outside the United States.
The wallpaper file is public domain.

This text carries no warrantee of any kind, and is subject to change without notice.

Last updated 2004 Jun 01
url http://www.mindspring.com/~mccarthys/whiskey/pcrebely.htm