The Master’s Touch

By Mabel Jones Gabbott

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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.”

    Illustrated by Dick Brown