A shadow o’er the spirit fell—
’T is past—a star is in the sky!
“Well with the child?” Ah, yes, ’t is well
With her, that sweet and guileless one;
Toll not for her the gloomy knell,
Though gilds her grave the morning sun.
“Well with the child?” Ah, yes, ’t is well,
And well with us who mourn, if we,
By penitence made pure, might dwell,
Sweet child of God! with Him and thee.