Looking for poem from -Out of Africa-
Tracy Larrabee
In -Out of Africa- Dennys washes the Baroness's hair while reciting part
of a poem (she even accuses him of skipping a verse). I really liked the
sound of the poem. The verse I remember went something like:
They love best
that prey best
both man and bird and beast
I read the book, and no such poem was mentioned (in fact, very little
involving anything even remotely personal was mentioned). The poem sounds
like it is authored by one of the romantics, but I haven't been able to
find it in any of the "index of first lines" I have looked through.
Any pointers would be appreciated.
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larrabee@decwrl
decwrl!larrabee Tracy Larrabee
Gary J. Smith
>
>In -Out of Africa- Dennys washes the Baroness's hair while reciting part
>of a poem (she even accuses him of skipping a verse). I really liked the
>sound of the poem. The verse I remember went something like:
>
> They love best
> that prey best
> both man and bird and beast
>
>
>I read the book, and no such poem was mentioned (in fact, very little
>involving anything even remotely personal was mentioned). The poem sounds
>like it is authored by one of the romantics, but I haven't been able to
>find it in any of the "index of first lines" I have looked through.
As I thought about this question, my first thought was that the
poem the Baroness recited at Denny's funeral was the same as the
one Denny recited to her while they were on safari. I now think
that they are two different poems. Nevertheless, here's the one
she recited at the funeral (I think she may have omitted the
next-to-last verse):
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
c. March 1895, 1896
Gary J. Smith @ ETHOS, Durham, North Carolina
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