Aquinas Institute - Arete Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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Co Conquer Our vessel had left the mooring. It was headed home once more. From its deck that glad May morning I viewed the fast fading shore. Quebec stood above the river On a mountain of solid stone; Its citadel, a sentinel, Guarding Frontenac alone. Ne’er had a sight more impressed me Than that on the river bank. As I gazed on the storied fortress My mind into musing sank. Ah! Wolfe was a valiant soldier To scale yonder cliff so high ! To fight on the Plains of Abraham; To fight? Yes; to conquer and die! To accomplish a task like his, I thought, Is an honor few may own; But to conquer in Life’s great battle. May be done without leaving home. Conquer yourself. Be your master. It is only a hero who can. Do this and you’ll be a soldier, Aye more, you will be a man. Harold Murphy

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Green be the sod above thee, Friend of our high school days! None knew thee but to love thee. None named thee but to praise. Adapted. A friend! Yes, a friend indeed! Harold Murphy was a true, loyal comrade, one to be depended upon; one who never counted the cost of kindness; a friend in need. At all times he was at the service of his school and classmates. He was not selfish; not harm bearing; but ever willing, generous, dutiful. An enemy to no one; a wary foe compelling wariness in his adversary as he built up about him reinforcements which generally proved unconquerable. As a classmate he ever upheld what was just and right; he made goodness victorious; and he conquered wrong. He was a dispeller of gloom and the harbinger of mirth and joy. A student? Yes! One to be relied upon, one not endowed with extraordinary mental power but one who achieved great things through constant endeavor. He was not, however, a grind, a bookworm, a dreamer; he was an ardent student. Justice must have ever been his slogan for it was this manly virtue he upheld in study, in class activities, and in all his dealings with his friends. He asked little. He gave all he had in the service of his classmates and fellow-students. A man? Yes. When shall we look upon the like again? He could stand on his feet and talk for himself, not boastful but ever conscious of the value of true worth. Fettered by physical weakness, he travelled a path not free from obstacles, a path on which many of stronger physique would have stumbled and even fallen in surrender. Not he! By his gentle calmness labor became sweet. Again we say he was a friend, a student, a man ! A man in the making; a student whom a teacher should rejoice in meeting; a friend, this he was to us, his classmates who will treasure his memory while we grieve in his loss. God rest thee, friend! This sweetly simple prayer We whisper o’er and o’er; May Christ conduct thee to His mansioned home Where sorrow is no more! And when, the cycling years now wholly sped, We reach the eternal shore, You’ll welcome to the Palace of the King Aquinas' Class of nineteen twenty-four. Louis Edelman.

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