The Hand That Rocks the Cradle
is
The Hand That Rules the World
Wiliam Ross Wallace
- Blessings on the hand of women!
- Angels guard its strength and grace,
- In the palace, cottage, hovel,
- Oh, no matter where the place;
- Would that never storms assailed it,
- Rainbows ever gently curled;
- For the hand that rocks the cradle
- Is the hand that rules the world.
- Infancy's the tender fountain,
- Power may with beauty flow,
- Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
- From them souls unresting grow--
- Grow on for the good or evil,
- Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
- For the hand that rocks the cradle
- Is the hand that rules the world.
- Woman, how divine your mission
- Here upon our natal sod!
- Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
- Always to the breath of God!
- All true trophies of the ages
- Are from mother-love impearled;
- For the hand that rocks the cradle
- Is the hand that rules the world.
- Blessings on the hand of women!
- Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
- And the sacred song is mingled
- With the worship in the sky--
- Mingles where no tempest darkens,
- Rainbows evermore are hurled;
- For the hand that rocks the cradle
- Is the hand that rules the world.