Sunday, January 29, 2023

Gaylord Flory 1945

I like the Impressionist feel to this 1945 piece by Gaylord Flory.



  1. There is the youth, the litheness and the poise of the athlete beautifully captured here.

    To An Athlete Dying Young

    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 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.

    A. E. Housman - 1859-1936

    1. Housman could be dark, but then he was living in the age before penicillin.

    2. Yes, but he grew up during the height of the Victorian fashionable near-obsession with death. With the population explosion, families started to lose more children and there were more deaths in sheer numbers. Nearly all the rituals of burial and grieving come down to us from this time, when Housman was active and it is much reflected in his work.

    3. Ooh now I'm going to have to watch Out of Africa for the umpteenth time. :-)

  2. Certainly is fetching in the rumpage area.