cold, dead hand
From a poem written by an anonymous Quaker woman (circa 1911) as a means to thank church members who had given their time to handing out Gospel tracts. What an historical contradiction, that the NRA should have (unknowingly?) chosen these same words for their own gospel!
"The giver is greater than any man
That ever drew sword in war;
I reckon him nobler than king or khan,
Nobler and better far.
For wisest is he in this whole broad land
Of hoarding till bent and grey;
For all we can hold in our cold, dead hand
Is what we have given away"
(Anonymous)
California Yearly Meeting of Friends (1911)
That ever drew sword in war;
I reckon him nobler than king or khan,
Nobler and better far.
For wisest is he in this whole broad land
Of hoarding till bent and grey;
For all we can hold in our cold, dead hand
Is what we have given away"
(Anonymous)
California Yearly Meeting of Friends (1911)
pry it from my cold dead hands
The thing that is the most valuable to you, can only be taken away when you are Deceased.
Those bastards can try and "Pry it from my cold dead hands!"