Another to Urania

Attend, ye mournful Parents, while
I sing, a Mother in Israel;
The fam'd, the gracious Shunamite,
Whose beauteous Story would invite
A Saint to yield her only one,
Almost without a Tear or Groan.
A wondrous Son she did embrace,
Heaven's signal Work, and special Grace;
Nor long embrac'd, but on her Knees
Arrested by a fierce Disease,
Scarce could he cry, My Head, My Head!
E'er the dear Parent saw him dead:
She laid him breathless on the Bed.
Deep was her Anguish, yet her Peace
She held, and went to God for Ease.
No Signs of Grief distort her Face,
Nor cloud its wonted Beams of Grace.
No Moans, no Shrieks, no piercing Cries;
No wringed Hands, or flowing Eyes
Distressed the House in that Surprize.
She hastes her to the Man of God,
Hastes to the Place of his Abode:
Mildly denies the Cause to tell
To her dear Spouse; all would be well
She trusts: So did her Faith excel.
Elisha, with a tender Fear,
Saw his illustrious Friend draw near:
'Twas not one of the Holy-Days
Sacred to publick Prayer and Praise;
Why then the Shunamite from Home?
On what great Errand was she come?
Her Speed bespoke some weighty Care,
Which generous Friendship long'd to share.
It struck him, something had befell
The Husband, Child,--All was not well--
Go, run Gebazi, said the Seer,
Enquire, with Earnestness sincere;
"Say, generous Host, if all be well?--
"All's well; my Lord! she said, and fell
At her great Intercessor's Feet:
There vents her Grief in Accents sweet,
Mild in her Anguish, in her Plaints discreet.
Such dear Urania, you to me!
O might I be but such to thee!
Mind, gracious Friend, the Word she said,
All well, and yet the Child was dead.
What God ordains is well and best.
Well 'tis with ours, when gone to Rest.
It's well with us, who stay behind,
If more from Earth and Sense refin'd,
W' are patient, pray'rful, meek, resign'd.