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Decoration Day is the most beautiful of our national holidays.... The grim cannon have turned into palm branches, and the shell and shrapnel into peach blossoms.

Thomas Bailey Aldrich

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Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Age: 70 †
Born: 1836
Born: November 2
Died: 1907
Died: March 19
Editor
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Portsmouth
New Hampshire
Military
Memorial
Cannons
Beautiful
Palms
Peaches
Shells
Blossoms
Uplifting
Decoration
Holiday
Holidays
Branches
Palm
Shrapnel
Turned
Grim
Peach
National
Shell
Cannon

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O Liberty, white Goddess! is it well to leave the gates unguarded? On thy breast fold Sorrow's children, soothe the hurts of Fate, lift the down-trodden, but with hand of steel stay those who to thy sacred portals come to waste the gifts of Freedom.
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The possession of unlimited power will make a despot of almost any man. There is a possible Nero in the gentlest human creature that walks.
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Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven That from the East glad message brings. Night is a stealthy, evil Raven, Wrapped to the eyes in his black wings.
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It is the Lord's Day, and I do believe that cheerful hearts and faces are not unpleasant in His sight.
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My mind lets go a thousand things, Like dates of wars and deaths of kings
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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A glance, a word -- and joy or pain befalls.... How slight the links are in the chain that binds us to our destiny!
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Gracious to all, to none subservient, Without offense he spoke the word he meant
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Between the reputation of the author living and the reputation of the same author dead there is ever a wide discrepancy.
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All the best sands of my life are somehow getting into the wrong end of the hourglass. If I could only reverse it! Were it in my power to do sowould I?
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When friends are at your hearthside met, Sweet courtesy has done its most If you have made each guest forget That he himself is not the host.
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With the tears a Land hath shed. Their graves should ever be green.
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Imagine all human beings swept off the face of the earth, excepting one man. Imagine this man in some vast city, New York or London. Imagine him on the third or fourth day of his solitude sitting in a house and hearing a ring at the door-bell!
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It is only your habitual late riser who takes in the full flavor of Nature at those rare intervals when he gets up to go afishing. He brings virginal emotions and unsatiated eyes to the sparkling freshness of earth and stream and sky.
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The ocean moans over dead men's bones.
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The man who suspects his own tediousness is yet to be born.
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That was indeed to live -- at one bold swoop to wrest from darkling death the best that death to life can give.
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Dialect tempered with slang is an admirable medium of communication between persons who have nothing to say and persons who would not care for anything properly said.
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No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.
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What is lovely never dies, but passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.
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Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows in yonder West the fair, frail palaces, The fading Alps and archipelagoes and great cloud continents of sunset-seas.
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