University of Virginia Library


209

V. IS IT WELL?

Never man spake like Him. His words of power
Fell like the healing dews of heaven. His looks
Breathed love: and round Him eagerly there press'd
The sick in body and the sick at heart.
Some clung in painful anguish to His hand;
Some cast themselves before His sacred feet;
Some cried aloud for mercy; and His grace
Was free to all. He cast out none who came.
But some there were of timid trembling faith,
Who stole behind Him in the press, and touch'd
The border of His garment; and there went
Such virtue from Him, all who touch'd were heal'd.
The feeblest touch was life. And He is still
Unchangeably, eternally the same.
Then weep not for thy well-beloved, nor ask
Mistrustful, “Is it well with him I mourn?”
Was he not clinging to the Saviour's hand?

210

Was he not holding to the Saviour's feet?
Was he not hanging on the Saviour's grace?
Is love still anxious? Laid he not his finger
Upon the border of the Saviour's robe?
That trembling touch was everlasting life.
1863.