It was a clean, well-ordered house,
That dwelling of the Shunammite;
The proffered bread was fresh and sweet,
And warm the yellow candlelight,
When with the dusk Elisha came
Seeking a pillow for the night.
The Shunem wife perceived that he
Was sent of God. She quickly planned
A little chamber on the wall
'Gainst his return, her noble thought
To serve this good and holy man;
And, oh! the gift her kindness brought:
A son, a son, when long before
Her hope of any child had fled,
A son who grew, till on a day
She held him, still and seeming dead.
She called for servant, for an ass,
Then swiftly to Elisha sped
Over the hills, and all the way
Her poignant prayer, "It shall be well."
Over the hills faith bore her on
Till at Elisha's feet she fell;
And what her lips would not admit,
How eloquently grief did tell.
The prophet came, and raised the child.
But, ah, that mother raised him, too!
For while the awful hand of death
To human sense seemed starkly true,
She had seen God through man expressed,
And "all is well," was what she knew.
