The Master’s Touch

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    She had need of healing power;
    Her faith was full and sure.
    Then He came, His garment dusty,
    His face serene and pure.
    Crowds before, around, and after—
    Oh, she must get near to Him!
    Suddenly a way was opened—
    She stooped to touch His hem.
    Just a touch, and she was healed;
    She stood still, the crowd passed by.
    But the Master turned abruptly:
    “Who touched me?”
    [“Lord, t’was I.”]
    Now His gaze was full upon her,
    Looking deep into her soul—
    “Daughter be of good comfort:
    Thy faith hath made thee whole.”

    [illustration] Illustrated by Dick Brown