The Hand that Rocks the World.
BY WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE. Blessings on the hand of woman ! 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 rocks the world.
Infancy’s the tender fountain ; Power may with beauty flow : Mothers first to guide the the streamlets ; From them souls unresting grow, Grow on for the good or evil, Sunshine streamed or darkness hurled— For the hand that rocks the cradle, Is the hand that rocks 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 rocks the world.
Blessings on the hand of Woman ! 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 rocks the world.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AG18791014.2.22
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Ashburton Guardian, Volume I, Issue 8, 14 October 1879, Page 3
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198The Hand that Rocks the World. Ashburton Guardian, Volume I, Issue 8, 14 October 1879, Page 3
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