LIKE a cradle, rocking, rocking,--silent, peaceful, to and fro; Like a mother's sweet looks dropping on the little face below,-- Hangs the green earth swinging, turning, jarless, noiseless, safe and slow; Falls the light of God's face, bending down and watching us below. And as feeble babes that suffer, toss and cry and will not rest, Are the ones the tender mother holds the closest,--loves the best; So when we are weak and wretched, by our sins weighed down, distressed, Then it is God's greatest patience holds us closest, loves us best. |