Зображення сторінки
[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

Mr. LEMKE. Mr. Speaker, recently I returned from the funeral of Senator BORAH at Boise, Idaho. It was a most impressive occasion. The State capitol was filled to overflowing, with thousands outside. It seemed as if every citizen of Idaho was present to pay tribute and respect to their and one of the Nation's greatest sons. The rotunda was literally filled with flowers. There was a general feeling of grief and yet of subdued joy. A feeling of strength and pride-a determination that the things the Senator stood for would continue to be the guiding spirit of this Nation-democracy without foreign entanglements.

Every boy and girl and every man and woman present felt that the State of Idaho and this Nation were better places to live in because of Senator BORAH's long and brilliant career. They felt that he did not belong only to their State but to every State of the Union—to the Nation and to the world. They knew that he was intellectually honest with himself and with their State and Nation, a quality altogether too rare in our everyday political life.

Senator BORAH was greater than Presidents-greater than kings. He was an American citizen-an intellectual giant who was not afraid to say "No." He was the enemy of greed and selfishness, of fraud and deception. He was not cowed by kings, queens, or Presidents. He belonged to the class of Clay, Webster, and Calhoun. His name, the same as theirs, for years had been mentioned as a Presidential possibility. But the king makers would not have it that way. They prefer more docile men.

Senator BORAH is not dead. He is part of the infinite. His name

ore than ever will be associated with human

progress. He will continue to live in the Nation's memory through generations. He will be remembered by every man and woman who works for an honest living. His grave will become a shrine for those who appreciate and know true greatness.

His battles in the United States Senate were for humanityfor the common people rather than for the pampered, select, and privileged few. We will miss him, but from his passing Congress and future Congresses will take renewed devotion and determination so that this Nation will again become the guiding light of all nations—a place where one who possesses energy possesses wealth, and where such a person will have an opportunity to live and let live.

Remarks by Representative Shanley

Of Connecticut

Mr. SHANLEY. Mr. Speaker, I think no more fitting poem has ever been written to characterize Senator BORAH's life than that of Amos Bronson Alcott on Wendell Phillips:

People's Attorney, servant of the Right!
Pleader for all shades of the solar ray,
Complexions dusky, yellow, red, or white;
Hast only questioned, What will Duty say?
And followed swiftly in her narrow way:
Tipped is thy tongue with golden eloquence,
All honeyed accents fail from off thy lips,
Each eager listener his full measure sips,
Yet runs to waste the sparkling opulence,
The scorn of bigots, and the worlding's flout.
If Time long held thy merit in suspense,
Hastening repentant now, with pen devout,
Impartial History dare not leave thee out.

Remarks by Representative Welch

Of California

[ocr errors]


Mr. WELCH. Mr. Speaker, I ask unanimous consent to have printed in the Appendix of the Record an excerpt from Brian Hooker's translation of Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac, as printed in the San Francisco News under the title “Borah Might Have Said It": Cyrano: What would you have me do?

Seek for the patronage of some great man,
And like a creeping vine on a tall tree
Crawl upward, where I cannot stand alone?
No; thank you
To sing, to laugh, to dream,
To walk in my own way and be alone,
Free, with an eye to see things as they are
At a word, a yes, a no,
To fight-or write. To travel any road
Under the sun, under the stars, nor doubt
If fame or fortune lie beyond the bourne-
Never to make a line I have not heard
In my own heart; yet, with all modesty
To say: "My soul, be satisfied with flowers,
With fruit, with weeds even; to gather them
In the one garden you may call your own.”
So, when I win some triumph, by some chance,
Render no share to Caesar-in a word.
I am too proud to be a parasite
And if my nature wants the germ that grows
Towering to Heaven like the mountain pine,
Or like the oak, sheltering multitudes
I stand, not high it may be—but alone!

« НазадПродовжити »