To an Athlete Dying Young Lyrics

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

Today, 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

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

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