noon
Alas ! how soon The things of earth we love most fondly perish ! Why died the flower our hearts had learned to cherish ? Why , ere 't was noon ? I can not tell -- But though the grave be that loved sister 's dwelling , And though my heart e ` en now with grief is swelling , I know 't is well . 'T is well with the -- 'T is well with thee , thou lone and silent sleeper ! 'T is well , though thou hast left me here a weeper Awhile to be .