Just a ba­by in a cra­dle
In the wa­ters on the Nile,
Then a lead­er moves a na­tion,
Like an ar­my, rank and file.
This is how God works His won­ders,
Without trum­pet or dis­play,
And we know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

Who will solve the na­tion’s prob­lems,
Level mount­ains, tame the seas,
Crystallize in splen­did action
Visions of the cen­tu­ries!
Who will lead the world to­mor­row
In its up­ward, on­ward way?
Hush! we know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

Lips are mold­ing now in si­lence
The il­lum­in­at­ing word—
Hearts are beat­ing splen­did mea­sures
That we ne­ver yet have heard.
Comes a face with light up­on it—
God, be­hind a face of clay—
Oh, we know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

On some Nile, amidst the rush­es,
Dreaming, hid­den from our view,
There may be a mas­ter work­man
Who shall make this old world new.
Scorn the fear of cra­ven spir­its,
Heed no word the doubt­ers say,
For they know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

When the night is at its deep­est,
And the dark­ness Hea­ven fills,
There is morn­ing some­where mold­ing,
Back be­hind the east­ern hills.
Never yet has lived a pha­raoh
But some Mos­es broke his sway,
And we know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

Earth is full of strange sur­pris­es,
In her near and dist­ant isles,
For the hand of God is mov­ing,
Through the rush­es, on the Niles,
Working out new move­ments, slow­ly,
As the old­er forms de­cay,
And we know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

God, a boy, one wo­man mov­ing
In a path to her un­known,
May eman­ci­pate a na­tion,
And strike down an an­cient throne,
Purposes di­vine are shap­ing,
Without haste, with­out de­lay,
And we know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

See, a prin­cess from the rush­es,
Takes one of an ali­en race,
Clothes him with the roy­al pur­ple,
Sets him in a lo­fty place.
He will bide his time in si­lence,
Wait to hear what God will say—
Oh, we know not what is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.

To the fu­ture step right bold­ly,
Hail with hope the com­ing years,
There is lit­tle room for doubt­ing,
There is lit­tle cause for tears;
With the day’s need comes the need­ed,
At the need hour, on its way,
For we know not is rock­ing
In the cra­dle of to­day.