. Eve and her daughters of Holy Writ, or, Women of the Bible. — Signs of a well-spring near. Again the bubbling fount became Combined with Hagars woe;And ever be her lonely namef Blent with the fountains flow. When pilgrims rest, or lowly bow In prayer by well and tree,Lone woman of the fountain, thou Shalt oft remembered be. Thy quick obedience—faiths bright test— Met with its due reward;But Oh, the grace that soothed and blessed, Let angel bards record. * Gen. 21: 19. | Hagar—a stranger. HAGAK. 29 Our God is Love: mans darkest hour Is his choice hour to bless;Light breaks, and loves transfor
. Eve and her daughters of Holy Writ, or, Women of the Bible. — Signs of a well-spring near. Again the bubbling fount became Combined with Hagars woe;And ever be her lonely namef Blent with the fountains flow. When pilgrims rest, or lowly bow In prayer by well and tree,Lone woman of the fountain, thou Shalt oft remembered be. Thy quick obedience—faiths bright test— Met with its due reward;But Oh, the grace that soothed and blessed, Let angel bards record. * Gen. 21: 19. | Hagar—a stranger. HAGAK. 29 Our God is Love: mans darkest hour Is his choice hour to bless;Light breaks, and loves transforming power Makes anguish happiness. Thus Hagar found relief and peace Through tenderness divine,While time unrolled the wondrous lease Of IshmaeFs mighty line. An archer bold on Parans sands, In desert pomp he reigned:Twelve sons renowned, that shared his lands, The same rude sway maintained. And still unchanged, a free, bold race, Wild oer the wastes they run:An Ishmael is each Arab chief; Each Arab, Ishmaels son. 30 EVE AND HER DAUGHTERS. And it came to pass, before he had done speaking, that, behold,Rebekah came out, who was born to Bethuel, son of Milcah, the wifeof Nahor, Abrahams brother, with her pitcher upon her the damsel was very fair to look upon. Gen. 24:15, 16. REBEKAH. 31 What damsel this, so fair and bright,With song and pitcher, tripping light Oer grassy fields and flowers?She seeks the grove, where in the shadeA well is scooped and stones are laid, To gather up the showers. There Harans maids at sunset fair,With all their thirsty flocks repair, And pilgrims know the ground:A stranger now is resting nigh,His evening prayer is wafted high, His camels graze around. With hushed respect the maid draws near;Descends, and from the fountain clearHer tall stone pitcher fills:Fair maid, then spoke the pilgrim grave,One cool refreshing draught I craveOf what this fount distils. Faint is my heart, for long the way,And fiercely shone the noon-
Size: 1753px × 1425px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1861
