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The Hand That Rocks The Cradle Is The Hand That Rules The World is a poem by William Ross Wallace that praises motherhood as the preeminent force for change in the world.
- 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.
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- 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.
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The title itself is an oft-quoted passage, which has over time been reinterpreted in various ways, particularly in recent times, as a kind of perennial example of a social norm gone awry.
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