Take me back to the days when the old red cradle rocked,
In the sunshine of the years that are gone;
To the good old trusty days, when the door was never locked,
And we slumbered unmolested till the dawn.

I remember of my years I had numbered almost seven,
And the old cradle stood against the wall—
I was youngest of the five, and two were gone to heaven,
But the old red cradle rocked us all.

And if ever came a day when my cheeks were flushed and hot,
When I did not mind my porridge or my play,
I would clamber up its side and the pain would be forgot,
When the old red cradle rocked away.

It has been a hallowed spot where I've turned through all the years,
Which have brought me the evil with the good,
And I turn again to-night, aye, and see it through my tears,
The place where the dear old cradle stood.

By its side my father paused with a little time to spare.
And the care-lines would soften on his brow,
Ah! 't was but a little while that I knew a father's care,
But I fancy in my dreams I see him now.

By my mother it was rocked when the evening meal was laid,
And again I seem to see her as she smiled;
When the rest were all in bed, 'twas there she knelt and prayed,
By the old red cradle and her child.

Aye, it cradled one and all, brothers, sisters in it lay,
And it gave me the sweetest rest I've known;
But to-night the tears will flow, and I let them have their way,
For the passing years are leaving me alone.

And it seems of those to come, I would gladly give them all
For a slumber as free from care as then,
Just to wake to-morrow morn where the rising sun would fall
Round the old red cradle once again.

But the cradle long has gone and the burdens that it bore,
One by one, have been gathered to the fold;
Still the flock is incomplete, for it numbers only four,
With one left out straying in the cold.

Heaven grant again we may in each other's arms be locked,
Where no sad tears of parting ever fall;
God forbid that one be lost that the old red cradle rocked;
And the dear old cradle rocked us all.