A poem for the U.S. Basketball Team.
She said--
Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory
As he defeated—dying—
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!
Emily Dickinson
I don't have a "He said--" for this poem. I just haven't found one yet. Maybe men don't write about losing.
