I asked for healing, having heard it said
That Jesus' works were once more being wrought
By consecrated seekers, Bible-taught
To heal the sick and sinning, raise the dead.
And I was healed! Then prayed I might be led
To find this priceless pearl, not to be bought,
But in our Master's footsteps to be sought
With firm, self-sacrificing, patient tread.
Then might I heal! Not so. There loomed instead
A portal closed. Had my search come to nought?
"Knock." Christ's command my listening ear now caught.
The way of understanding lay ahead,
Wherein the sick and sinning might be fed
With sweet milk of the Word and Spirit's bread.
How came the instant answer to my plea?
Through Christian Science channels I descried
Redeeming Love—a mighty cleansing tide
Of healing Truth, revivifying me.
I took the little book, the golden key
To revelation, opening wide
The Holy Scriptures. These my only guide
From bonds of doubt to paths of service, free.
To one who listens at the Master's knee,
Precept on precept, line on line allied,
The healing touch will never be denied.
The Science of the Christ unfetters thee.
I asked, I sought, I knocked, ere I could see
Man's perfect self is, was, shall ever be.
