To An Athlete Retiring Young
by Basil
on Mar 25, 2007 10:01 PM EDT
in News
3 comments
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.
. . .
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.
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Goodbye old Friend:(
I'm weeping; that should've been in the Nats press release!
by Tobias Funke on
Mar 26, 2007 6:46 AM EDT
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Lee, alone with his money
by skedeebs on
Mar 26, 2007 6:50 AM EDT
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Rage, rage against the dying of the Lee.
by harper on
Mar 26, 2007 9:17 AM EDT
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