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. | |
5 | |
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. | |
10 | |
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. | |
15 | |
Eyes the shady night has shut | |
Cannot see the record cut, | |
And silence sounds no worse than cheers | |
After earth has stopped the ears: | |
20 | |
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. | |
25 | |
So set, before its echoes fade, | |
The fleet foot on the sill of shade, | |
And hold to the low lintel up | |
The still-defended challenge-cup. | |
30 | |
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. |