, he said to his assembled troops, "last night, after i retired to rest, the shade of the great konstantin rose before my eyes, and his well- known voice and forbade me to despair of the republic." we too have a voice is of shades -- have voices of shades who emerged from our past. we too have what lincoln in his first inaugural address called, "mystic chords of memory stretching from everywhere." -- every patriot grave." they bind us to the great and to the humble, the known and the unknown. and if i hear them clearly, what they say is that although we may have strayed, we have not strayed too far to return, for we are, everyone of us, their descendants. the sinews are still there, quite lively, waiting to flex. we can still astound the world with justice, reason and strength. i know this is true. but even if it were not, we could not, indecency, stand down, if only for our debt to history. the debt we owe to those who came before, who did great things, who suffered more than we suffer, who gave more than we give, who pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor for us, who