She raised her voice on high,
And sent forth that heart-stricken prayer
"Let me not see him die!"

Her beautiful, her only boy,
Her all of hope below;
So long his father's pride and joy,
And yet--from _him_ the blow!
Alone she must his head sustain,
And watch his sinking breath,
And on his bright brow mark the stain
Of the destroyer, Death.

"Let me not see him die," and lo!
The messenger of peace!
Once more her tears forget to flow,
Once more her sorrows cease.
Life, strength, and freedom now are given
With mighty power to one
Who from his father's roof was driven,
And he--the outcast's son.

How often we, like Hagar, mourn,
When some unlook'd for blight
Drives us away, no more to turn
To joys we fancied bright!
Forced from our idols to retreat,
And seek the Almighty's care,
Perchance we are sent forth to meet
A desert-angel there.