Hagar in the Desert. Mary Tighe (née Blachford) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Tighe, Mary, 1772-1810. Psyche, With Other Poems. London Printed for LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW 1811 pp. 299-302. 314p.

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Hagar in the Desert . INJURED , hopeless , faint , and weary , Sad , indignant , and forlorn , Through the desert wild and dreary , Hagar leads the child of scorn . Who can speak a mother's anguish , Painted in that tearless eye , Which beholds her darling languish , Languish unrelieved , and die . Lo ! the empty pitcher fails her , Perishing with thirst he lies , Death with deep despair assails her , Piteous as for aid he cries . From the dreadful image flying , Wild she rushes from the sight ; In the agonies of dying Can she see her soul's delight ? Now bereft of every hope , Cast upon the burning ground , Poor , abandoned soul ! look up , Mercy have thy sorrows found . Lo ! the Angel of the Lord Comes thy great distress to cheer ; Listen to the gracious word , See divine relief is near . " Care of Heaven ! though man forsake thee , Wherefore vainly dost thou mourn ? From thy dream of woe awake thee , To thy rescued child return . " Lift thine eyes , behold yon fountain , Sparkling mid those fruitful trees ; Lo ! beneath yon sheltering mountain Smile for thee green bowers of ease . " In the hour of sore affliction God hath seen and pitied thee ; Cheer thee in the sweet conviction , Thou henceforth his care shalt be . " Be no more by doubts distressed , Mother of a mighty race ! By contempt no more oppressed , Thou hast found a resting place . " — Thus from peace and comfort driven , Thou , poor soul , all desolate , Hopeless lay , till pitying Heaven Found thee , in thy abject state . O'er thy empty pitcher mourning Mid the desert of the world ; Thus , with shame and anguish burning , From thy cherished pleasures hurled : See thy great deliverer nigh , Calls thee from thy sorrow vain , Bids thee on his love rely , Bless the salutary pain . From thine eyes the mists dispelling , Lo ! the well of life he shews , In his presence ever dwelling , Bids thee find thy true repose . Future prospects rich in blessing Open to thy hopes secure ; Sure of endless joys possessing , Of an heavenly kingdom sure .