Corey...

Twenty years later, we remember the life of a young man--one with the heart of a lion. Ironically, it was that same heart which in the end failed him, and us, well before its time.

They say you don't get over a child dying, you get through it. I'm still not through it.

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.

Today, 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.

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.