90
HAGAR.
Drooping, and travel-worn,
The boy upon her hung;
Who, from his father’s tent, that morn,
Like a gazelle had sprung.
The boy upon her hung;
Who, from his father’s tent, that morn,
Like a gazelle had sprung.
His ebbing breath failed fast,
Glazed was his flashing eye;
And in that fearful, desert waste,
She laid him down to die.
Glazed was his flashing eye;
And in that fearful, desert waste,
She laid him down to die.
But when, in wild despair,
She left him to his lot,
A voice that filled that breathless air,
Said, “Hagar, fear thou not.”
She left him to his lot,
A voice that filled that breathless air,
Said, “Hagar, fear thou not.”
Then o’er the hot sands flowed
A cooling, crystal stream,
And angels left their high abode,
And ministered to them.
A cooling, crystal stream,
And angels left their high abode,
And ministered to them.
Oft, when drear wastes surround
My faltering footsteps here,
I’ve thought, I too heard that blest sound
Of “Wanderer, do not fear.”
My faltering footsteps here,
I’ve thought, I too heard that blest sound
Of “Wanderer, do not fear.”
