Kinsey Keene
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our attention, Thomas Rhodes, president of the bank;Coolbaugh Whedon, editor of the Argus;Rev. Peet, pastor of the leading church;A. D. Blood, several times Mayor of Spoon River;And finally all of you, members of the Social Purity Club—Your attention to Cambronne’s dying words,Standing with the heroic remnantOf Napoleon’s guard on Mount Saint JeanAt the battle field of Waterloo,When Maitland, the Englishman, called to them:“Surrender, brave Frenchmen!”—There at close of day with the battle hopelessly lost,And hordes of men no longer the armyOf the great NapoleonStreamed from the field like ragged stripsOf thunder clouds in the storm.Well, what Cambronne said to MaitlandEre the English fire made smooth the brow of the hillAgainst the sinking light of daySay I to you, and all of you,And to you, O world.And I charge you to carve itUpon my stone.
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