What Rules the World

Blessings on the hand of woman!

Angels guard her 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,

Mothers first to guide the streamlets,

From them souls unresting grow—

Grow on for good or evil,

Sunshine streamed or darkness 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—

Mingled where no tempest darkens,

Rainbows evermore are curled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

William Ross Wallace (1819-1881) wrote “What Rules the World.” Sources indicate it was first submitted to and published in various magazines in 1865. The earliest I found it at Newspapers.com was 1873. The magazines in which the poem was published are probably not on that site.