Poor Hagar ! yes, the child is born, A joy to make thy bosom mourn ; A son, for whom such prayers were given, They reached at length the throne of Heaven; And after years, when womankind Have left their early hopes behind. He comes to bless his mother's sight, And glad her with a new delight. His mother is a wedded dame, Of state, and mightiness, and name ; Egyptian handmaid thou to her. Who did the accustomed right confer. Of bearing to her childless spouse The offspring, she then sought in vain: What pleasured once, now griefs arouse,— Thy lovely boy's become her bane. Thy mistress Sarah, Abraham's mate. The fair youth views with jealous hate; Thy Ishmael, so loved of thee, Long dreamed his father's heir to be, And loved by him as parents love Who've only one then' cares to prove. If broken waters glide along, Though deep each stream, each current strong. Their forces blended, straight shall be A raging torrent, till the sea Engulf it in her briny caves, There calm to rest beneath her waves. So when affections centred lie In one, they reach intensity Within the beating human breast. Until entombed its passions rest. But now divided love prevails. And Ishmael the cause bewails. He sees his infant brother placed Above himself, himself disgraced ; And when his rising heart rebels. Stern Sarah's ire his spirit quells. For she is lady of them all. And rules her slaves with iron thrall ; Or meets him with a frowning brow. His sire, ne'er frowning met till now.
Hast marked some tender blooming flower, Full opened to the summer's ray.
When clouds arise and darkening lower, Turn drooping from the change away ?
So, saddened with the silent wound, The youth's bright spirit sank in gloom ;
He oft in secret tears was found, Anticipating evil doom.