Topic: "Frodo and Housman" (2)
With appropriate apologies to the late A.E. Housman for the substitutions, in part, by Frodo:
The time you won your town the race
We cheered you through the market-place;
Hobbit and man stood side by side,
Everyone cheered, no one cried.
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 through 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 steeds that wore their honours out,
Horses whom renown outran
And the name died before a van.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended Breeder's 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.
Godspeed Barbaro--Frodo has a broken heart this night.