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.