H AG AR'S
EXTREMITY
"By JOHN H. DAVIS
Illinois State Register
Copyright, 1906, by John H. Davis.
"Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"—Gen. 18:25.
To the Millions of Blacks
in these
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,
who feel the weight of discrimination and injustice,
this hook is dedicated.
JOHN H. DAVIS,
Author,
Springfield, III.
HAGAR'S EXTREMITY.
I.
Up from the eastern desert plain,
A cry to God, in anguish!, came
From heart all torn and bowed with grief,
Hopeless and sad, beyond relief.
Into a vast, unpeopled world,
She and her little child were hurled,
To live or die, which e'er they could,
To take what came, both bad and good.
Scant bread and water were supplied;
No helping hand, no one to guide,
No habitation; left to roam
The desert wild and find a home,
Or die of hunger and of thirst,
Whichever one came to her first.
"Cast out the bond," the mistress cried;
The stern request was not denied;
The master-husband bowed his head,
Reluctant, granted as she said,
And sent his servant-wife and child
To wander o'er the desert wild.
What was the cause of this decree?
What broken law brought misery?
Came she with guile twixt man and wife?
Or had she taken human life?
What crime from Justice did demand
Her exile to an unknown land?
II
In Canaan's land, in song oft told,
Dwelt faithful Abraham of old;
In cattle rich, also in land,
And servants moved at his command.
Nature to him its best had sent;
God prospered him where'er he went.
He had enough and some to spare,
Yet there was something lacking there;
Of earth's vast treasure lacked he naught,
With this exception, it had brought
To him and Sarah, faithful wife,
No little child to bless their life.
It worried him that he should die
And, childless, meet his God on high,—
No one to care for his estate,
No one his name perpetuate.
His wife deep sorrow also felt
That God had thusly with her dealt;
Herself, now past child-bearing age,
Unselfish tries grief to assuage,—
To Abram gives Hagar, her maid,
To wife, in hopes this curse be stayed,
That Abraham might have an heir
Of his own flesh, his wealth to share.
When love abides, there is no bound,
Its limit never has been found.
m.
The sacrifice was not in vain:
No servant now as heir should reign;
From Abram's loins the Egyptian maid
Brought forth a son, the curse was stayed,
And unto Abram, old in years,
At last a ray of hope appears.
What wonder pride filled Hagar's breast
As she their infant son caressed?
For Sarah, beautiful and fair,
Had never known an infant's care,
While she herself, of darker hue,
The pain and joy of child-birth knew.
What wonder, then, some spark of pride
Should in the mother's breast abide
And show itself in Hagar's eye,
When mistress Sarah was near by?
What wonder, then, that Abram's wife
Should burn with jealousy and strife,
And feel herself in deep despise
And low esteemed in Hagar's eyes?
What jealous passions fired her breast
And filled her with that dire unrest!—
A burden more than she could bear,—
But she, herself, had placed it there,—
In love for Abraham, her lord,
Pierced her own heart as with a sword.
IV.
For fourteen years the fire burned,
She felt herself despised and spurned;
Her hatred for her maid and heir,
Within her breast she smothered there
Till God, despite her ninety years,
Removes the curse, dispels her fears,
And Isaac unto her was born,
When she, past age, was most forlorn.
No longer need she hold her peace;
That taunting eye and lip must cease:
She has an heir, her flesh and blood,
She long enough this pain has stood.
When it came time Isaac to wean,
To taunt the boy Ishmael was seen:—
The smouldering passion burst in flame,
This cruel edict from her came:—
" 'Cast out the bondwoman and her son1/
There is one heir and only one,
For future good it is not well
That they should with my Isaac dwell."
Experience taught her what 'twould be;
She spared her son her misery.
The father, Abram, loved each son,
And could not bear that this be done.
But where love 'bides there is no bound,
Its limit never has been found.
V.
Perplexed, he goes to seek his God,
With whom this earth, as friend, he trod;
His wife he would not dare offend,
Nor yet his son to exile send;
Just what to do weighed on him sore,
And unto God his burden bore.
Said God, his ever faithful guide,
As Sarah said—let it abide;
I'll bless thee as I promised thee,
But Ishmael shall remembered be:
Twelve princes shall this son beget
Before his latest sun shall set,
And from his seed, after he dies,
A mighty nation shall arise.
Thus cheered, he did his God obey,
To Sarah's stern command gave way;
He knew that God, both good and true,,
Would do just as he said he'd do:
In faith, the Egyptian wife and child
He sends forth to the barren wild,
With bread and water, scanty fare,
No home, no roof, save desert bare.
Far 'way from friends in Egypt clime,
With blasted hopes and broken shrine,
She finds herself now cast aside,
With none to help or none to guide.
VI.
Hark! listen to that stifled groan,
An echo of a dying moan.
What means that loud and piercing cry
The sultry winds bear to the sky?
See yonder 'neath that shrub, there lay
A lad almost within death's sway,
His parched lips and wasted face
Of thirst and hunger show the trace.
'Tis Hagar's boy left there to die;—
But Hagar must be somewhere nigh.
Yes, there she sits a space apart,—
To see him die would break her heart:
No more in sight, the water gone,
His spirit soon must follow on.
She cannot bear to see him die,
Her only one,—she gives a cry
'Twould melt a human heart to hear,
But there's no human far or near;
But nature shows its sympathies,—
For borne aloft by desert breeze
From barren land by man untrod
It wafts the cry through space to God.
God hears the cry, an angel sends,
To Hagar's wants at once attends,
Gives water, life, a place of rest;
A nation great he shall be blest.
VII.
'Tis hard to know the plans of God,—
Why one should bear the chastening rod,
Why one, from cause to him,unknown,
Must reap the woes by others sown,
Must bear the toil, the tears and shame,
And pay the debt—though not to blame.
'Tis hard to know of one man's sons
One bears the load the other shuns,
Why one should lord and master be,
The other, slave, should bow the knee;
Why man from the same common source,
Should raise himself and rule by force.
But God himself knows every "why"
Of everything beneath the sky;
His plans have always proved the best
For those who, faithful, stood the test.
The furnace fire is to refine;
'Tis God's own.plan, not yours or mine.
Hagar and Ishmael suffered great,
But God himself did compensate:
In Hagar's dire extremity
The .Lord brought joy from misery.
Though Isaac, great, should dwell in peace,
The seed of Ishmael should increase;
Though Isaac, blessed, still dwelt at home,
From Ishmael princes great should come.
VIII.
Pour thousand years have most passed by,
But hark! I hear another cry—
An echo of that distant sound
Which made Beer-sheeba's wilds resound:
A cry is .heard in our own land,
Egyptian-hued, a numerous band
Like Hagar's brought from Afric's shore,
Cast out, despised, like her of yore;
Rights', given, yet their rights denied,
Lynched and tormented, yet defied,—
Lift up their voice with tear and grief,
But no one comes to their relief—
No mortal man to hear their cry!
Is not the God of Hagar nigh?
Will he not lend a listening ear,
And angels send to bring us cheer?
Courage, my brother! let us wait
And bear our burdens though they're great,
Be strong and bear fate's stern decree,
Till Hagar's sad extremity
Shall be our lot, and then our cry
Shall reach the God who rules on high,
Then shall our tears be turned to joy,
And prospects bright our spirits buoy;
Till once despised, we, too, shall stand
A nation great, in this, our land.