Blessing on the hand of women!
Angels guard its stregth and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter 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 sould unresting grow -
Grow on for the good and evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Women, 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!
Father, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song in 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.
-William Ross Wallace-
Sunday, May 10, 2009
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