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IS IT WELL WITH THE CHILD ? 223
A freshness of love o'er our pathway flinging, Yet 'tis well with the child—it is well.
It is well, though his slumbers the birds may not waken, . Nor flow'rets their fav'rite recall ; Though on all his haunts, by the wood-path, forsaken, The shadows of loneliness fall; Though his cheek is as white as the rose-bud that fadedi And ere its maturity fell; Though by the pale linen the sweet brow is shaded, Yet 'tis well with the child—it is well.
It is well, though our hearts, are in tenderness Weeping, .~ And bleeding afresh at the thought, That the one fondly cherish'd in darkness is sleeping, And affection may waken him not; Though the fondest ties are in agony riven,
And tears in their bitterness swell, We hear a sweet voice as if whisp'ring from heaven, " It is well with tlie child—it is well."