A Eulogy for a Big Game Hunter

Karen Blixen reads a poem at Denys Finch Hatton's funeral that is both heartfelt and entirely appropriate. Written by A.E. Houseman, we've reprinted it here it is in it's entirety.
Or click here to watch the QuickClip.

To an Athlete Dying Young
by A.E. Houseman (1859-1936)

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 brought 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 had 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 reown outran
And the name died before the man.

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

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







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