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Poem by George MacDonald The Gospel Women. 7. The Woman Who Came behind Him in the Crowd Near him she stole, rank after rank; She feared approach too loud; She touched his garment's hem, and shrank Back in the sheltering crowd. A shame-faced gladness thrills her frame: Her twelve years' fainting prayer Is heard at last! she is the same As other women there! She hears his voice. He looks about. Ah! is it kind or good To drag her secret sorrow out Before that multitude? The eyes of men she dares not meet-- On her they straight must fall!-- Forward she sped, and at his feet Fell down, and told him all. To the one refuge she hath flown, The Godhead's burning flame! Of all earth's women she alone Hears there the tenderest name: "Daughter," he said, "be of good cheer; Thy faith hath made thee whole:" With plenteous love, not healing mere, He comforteth her soul. George MacDonald George MacDonald's other poems:
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