In Memoriam: Sean Taylor, 1983-2007
Sometimes it's best to let someone else speak for you...
"To An Athlete Dying Young," by A.E. Housman
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.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields were 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.
A copy of this poem was given to me by my 12th grade psychology teacher after Hank Gathers passed away in 1990.
May your soul find eternal rest, Sean Taylor.
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