Passed by a blinded man
Reaching out gropingly,
Danger on every side,
Hands held beseechingly!
"Oh, all ye passers-by,
Ye who have eyes to see,
Will ye not stretch a hand
To such as me?"
Are we the passers-by?
Shall we not heed that cry?
"Go heal the sick for Me;
Love came and gave thee light,
Pass on that gift of sight;
Set those blind footsteps right.
Thus as ye do to Mine,
Ye do to Me."
