He that is washed needs but to wash his feet,
And he is wholly clean. What words are these?
So hard, so dark, they warn us from the beat
Of outward sense, and bid us rise to seize
Some ray of light flashed downwards from the sun
Of truth, eternal as the truthful One.
He that is washed needs but to wash his feet;
His comings and his goings must be clean,
His path still pure adown life's crowded street,
His track upon its mire and slime unseen.
Few are too weak or vile to purge their walk;
Our Master did not mock us in His talk.
He bade us do the thing we could—no more;
Be heedful of our outward ways and deeds.
Watch well our feet—that so He might outpour
His spirit for our spirits' inward needs:
Till we in Sabbath rest and peace should sit,
And hear His words, 'Clean are ye every whit.'