  Ah me! what life since hers in age agone Hath not known Hagar's hour in desert wild; Outcast from sheltering home, adrift, alone, Bereft of love's sweet ministry, her child— Her heart's one treasure—late so fond and fair, Become a burden more than she could bear; All earth and sky a strange enfolding scroll Writ o'er with nameless pain and sense of need Till came the thought of God. Even so the soul, Consumed with vain regret and doubt and dread— As she upon the barren sand her boy— Lays all it once had counted hope and joy Upon the desolate waste itself had spread; Self-abnegating, tho with bitter cry— "I yield thee, but I cannot see thee die." But, passing thence, the agonizing plea Faith transforms into tuneful harmony, Glad to remember "Thou, God, seest me." |
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