Christ could not be hid, for the sinner would haste
Behind Him to weep at the Pharisee's feast;
To wipe with her hair, when she'd washed with her tears,
His feet, who had blest her and silenced her fears.
Could not be hid, no, could not be hid;
Then trust in that Saviour who could not be hid.
Christ could not be hid, for the blind and the lame
His love and His power would together proclaim;
The dumb would speak out, and the deaf would recall
The name of that Jesus who healèd them all.
Christ could not be hid, for around Him would press
The children of sorrow, of pain, and distress;
And faith, by the hem of His garment, would prove
What virtue there issued from Him who is love.
Christ could not be hid, for the widow of Nain
Would point to her son, now restored her again—
Would say 'twas His love, His compassion and grace,
Gave back that lost son to a mother's embrace.
Christ could not be hid, for hark! hark to that shout—
"Hosanna, hosanna!" the children cry out;
For us, oh, how blessed! though some would forbid
To tell of the Saviour who could not be hid.