Poems (Hale)/"Is it well with the Child?"

by Mary Whitwell Hale

"IS IT WELL WITH THE CHILD?"

    O! 't is a charmed sleep!
Come ye upon the holy ground with fear,
And with low breath and silent lip draw near:
    Break not that rest so deep.
No earthly touch hath set its signet there,
Or wrought a work so beautiful and fair.

    Look ye on that pale brow,
That eyelid, closed as in its infant rest,
When hushed to slumber on its mother's breast;
    See the calm beauty now,
Which on that chiseled lip the eye may view,—
The cheek which wears the lily's sinless hue.

    That form, O! it might well
Be the pure temple of a soul divine,
And hold, for stainless gifts, a spirit-shrine,
    Whence notes of love might swell,
Like incense sweet, where guilt is all unknown,
And grateful rise to the Eternal's throne.

    It cannot, may not be—
The spirit even from that pure shrine ascends,
And with the angelic choir its incense blends.
    Eternal One, to Thee
Can more accepted notes than theirs be given,
Whom he, Thy Son, declared to be of heaven?

    It shall be well with those
Whom he, on earth, in word and spirit blessed—
Those of the world, the brightest and the best:
    Calmly their souls repose,—
Repose with him, whose voice the promise gave,
Whose death the pledge of life beyond the grave.

    We know with her 't is well,
Called, in her sinless years, to join the band,
Who, 'mid his glory, with their Saviour stand,
    Ere the unsullied swell
Of life's young fount a dark'ning stain can know,
Or the glad heart be touched with earthly wo.

    Let not the spirit weep—
Would we recall her from the immortal sphere,
Though the pure ransom were a parent's tear?
    God shall the treasure keep
Unstained, unsullied, as a gem of light,
To beam forever in His heavenly sight.