It has earned its quiet.

The hands that shook up its pillow have quit work.

The foot that kept the rocker in motion is through with its journey.

The face that hovered has been veiled from mortal sight.

Cradle of blessed memories! Cradle that soothed so many little griefs! Cradle that kindled so many hopes! Cradle that rested so many fatigues! Sleep now thyself, after so many years of putting others to sleep! One of the great wants of the age is the right kind of a cradle and the right kind of a foot to rock it.