If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;<br />Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;<br />We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,<br />We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.<br />The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;<br />In all the universe we have no place.<br />Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?<br />Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars, we claim Thy grace.<br />If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,<br />Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;<br />We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,<br />Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign.<br />The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;<br />They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;<br />But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,<br />And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.