Paradise

Paradise is NEVER

 

 

“won”

 

with a 

 

pair o’ dice.

– eab, 12/26/12

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William Jennings Bryan – Speech, Jul 8, 1896

…Home earth’s only paradise…

     – William Jennings Bryan, In His Image (NY: Fleming Revell Co., 1922), 16.

 It is more important that you trust the Rock of Ages

            than that you know the age of the rocks.

      – William Jennings Bryan, In His Image (NY: Fleming Revell Co., 1922), 39.

 

No mental processes can stop the mad race for money.  Man must be born again. 

     – William Jennings Bryan, In His Image (NY: Fleming Revell Co., 1922), 43.

 

I challenge the doctrine now being taught that we must enter into a mad rivalry with the Old World in the building of battleships, the doctrine that the only way to preserve peace is to get ready for wars that ought never to come!  It is a barbarous brutual, un-Christian doctrine – the doctrine of darkness, not the doctrine of the dawn.

     – William Jennings Bryan, In His Image (NY: Fleming Revell Co., 1922), 192.

 

Love of money is probably more responsible for modern wars than any other one cause…the blood of many being shed to enrich a few.  

      – William Jennings Bryan, In His Image (NY: Fleming Revell Co., 1922), 233.

William Jennings Bryan on this date 7/8/1896 at the Democratic National Convention, gave his famous speech 1896, supporting “the little man” of America, “You shall not crucify mankind upon a cross of gold.” 

What a shame and pity that neither Democrats nor Republicans can find a man of like caliber today.  God be merciful to America.

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow – death, Mar. 24, 1882

“Village Blacksmith”

Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arm
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate`er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly,
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter`s voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother`s voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling, – rejoicing, – sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night`s repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow died this date (3/24/1882) in Cambridge, Massachusetts.  He wrote “Psalm of Life” “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”  “Evangeline” “Paul Revere’s Ride” etc

.

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