Housman

(For those who aren’t familiar with A.E. Housman’s A Shropshire Lad, this is a rejoinder to Housman’s brilliant poem “Terence, This is Stupid Stuff”) A REPLY TO TERENCE After A.E. Housman Terence, lad, you’ve missed our point: If we’ve our noses out of joint It isn’t Milton who’s to blame, Nor any poet of his fame. ’Tis just your stuff that’s tough to bear, With dead lads heaped up everywhere. If what’s-his-name — your clever king — Had had your dose of poisoning, He’d not have made it to the meal. (Though granted, you’ve got sex appeal — If one thinks dying young is sexy.) Don’t let this quick riposte perplex ye; We’re not quite the dolts you think, So lad — shut up and have a drink.

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…