James Dean Tribute For those who admire him, he will ever be the rebel without a cause. I'm not in the legion of admirers. Nevertheless, he, and a few others exemplify these sentiments: To An Athlete Dying Young A. E. Housman T HE 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 no...