I am the Lord that healeth thee.
Heal us, EMMANUEL, here we are,
Waiting to feel thy touch;
Deep wounded souls to thee repair,
And, Savior we are such.
Our faith is feeble we confess,
We faintly trust thy word;
But wilt thou pity us the less?
Be that far from thee, Lord!
Remember him who once applied
With trembling for relief;
“Lord, I believe, with tears he cried,
O help my unbelief.”
She too, who touched thee in the press,
And healing virtue stole;
Was answered, “Daughter, go in peace,
Thy faith hath made thee whole.”
Concealed amid the gath’ring throng,
She would have shunned thy view;
And if her faith was firm and strong,
Had strong misgivings too.
Like her, with hopes and fears, we come,
To touch thee if we may;
O! send us not despairing home,
Send none unhealed away.