The Healer

    So stood of old the holy Christ
    Amidst the suffering throng;
    With whom His lightest touch sufficed
    To make the weakest strong.

    That healing gift He lends to them
    Who use it in His name;
    The power that filled His garment’s hem
    Is evermore the same.

    For lo! in human hearts unseen
    The Healer dwelleth still,
    And they who make His temples clean
    The best subserve His will.

    The holiest task by Heaven decreed,
    An errand all divine,
    The burden of our common need
    To render less is thine.

    The paths of pain are thine. Go forth
    With patience, trust, and hope;
    The sufferings of a sin-sick earth
    Shall give thee ample scope.

    Beside the unveiled mysteries
    Of life and death go stand,
    With guarded lips and reverent eyes
    And pure of heart and hand.

    So shalt thou be with power endued
    From Him who went about
    The Syrian hillsides doing good,
    And casting demons out.

    That Good Physician liveth yet
    Thy friend and guide to be;
    The Healer by Gennesaret
    Shall walk the rounds with thee

John Greenleaf Whittier