Paul Joseph Haggerty

West Point, 1991

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Daryl Chamberlain on March 15, 1998:

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. Houseman Hags, you will forever live inside of our hearts and I am confident that the laureled wreath that you wear now is the reward of a race well-run. Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable- all this is my memory of my good friend, Paul Haggerty. Thank you, Coach.

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