To touch

My Father, may I now draw near

And touch your Son,

The hem of His rough royal robe he wore

On earth.

Unworthy to be thought of God

Am I,

And too undone,

And yet I would draw near to Him;

True questions in the place of doubt,

True trembling in the place of fear,

With hand outstretched, both timid, bold

To touch, behold,

And then to see.

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