THERE IS a story that some years ago an interested mother wrote to a principal of a school, "Don't teach my boy poetry. He is going to run for Congress."
     I have never taken the view that the world of politics and the world of poetry are so far apart. I think politicians and poets share at least one thing, and that is that their greatness depends upon the courage with which they face the challenges of life. There are many kinds of courage - bravery under fire, courage to risk reputation and friendship and career for convictions which are deeply held. Perhaps the rarest courage of all - for the skill to pursue it is given to very few men - is the courage to wage a silent battle to illuminate the nature of man and the world in which he lives. This is Robert Frost's courage. Untiring skill and daring which are his in penetrating many of the mysteries which surround our life have brought him a well deserved recognition which has been given to few men in our time.
     Robert Frost is often characterized as an American poet - or a New England poet. And he is, of course, all of these things, for the temper of his region and of his Nation has provided a good deal of the meter and the tone in which he has dealt. But he is not a poet bounded by geography. He will live as a poet of the life of man, of the darkness and despair, as well as of the hope - which is, in his case, limited by a certain skepticism - and also for his wit and understanding of man's limitations which lie behind all of man's profoundest statements.
     I asked Robert Frost to come and speak at the inauguration not merely because I was desirous of according a recognition to his trade, but also because I felt he had something important to say to those of us who are occupied with the business of Government, that he would remind us that we were dealing with life, the hopes and fears of millions of people, and also to tell us that our own deep convictions must be the ultimate guide to all of our actions.
     He has said it well in a poem called "Choose Something Like a Star," in which he speaks of the fairest star in sight and says:

It asks . . . little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our mind on and be staid.