To An Athlete Dying Young
Автор книги Alfred Edward Housman
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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 honours out,
Runners whom renown outran.
And the name died before the man.
