 | Evensong |  |
44
SHE ASKS FOR A HOUSE
Joseph, send me a house,
For the dear sake of Nazareth,
Where the Child in the breast of your spouse
Drew quiet and radiant breath.
For the dear sake of Nazareth,
Where the Child in the breast of your spouse
Drew quiet and radiant breath.
Where as you went to and fro
Between the bench and the door,
The little Son's feet, soft and slow,
Made prints on the dusty floor.
Between the bench and the door,
The little Son's feet, soft and slow,
Made prints on the dusty floor.
Joseph, send, of your grace,
A wee little house for my ease,
In a green and a sheltered place,
With a hive for the honey-bees.
A wee little house for my ease,
In a green and a sheltered place,
With a hive for the honey-bees.
The sound of the cattle a-browse,
The song of the lark and the linnet,
The flowers to cover the house,
And the peace of God to be in it.
The song of the lark and the linnet,
The flowers to cover the house,
And the peace of God to be in it.
Send me a warm hearth-stone,
And the things that I love about me.
A wee little house of my own,
And none to trouble or flout me.
And the things that I love about me.
A wee little house of my own,
And none to trouble or flout me.
And there, as I sit by the fire,
Remembering all that is past,
I shall make to my heart's desire
A wee little song to the last.
Remembering all that is past,
I shall make to my heart's desire
A wee little song to the last.
45
The praise of the Child shall be in it.
The thought of Mary, your spouse,
And, Joseph, listen a minute;
Your name, if you give me the house.
The thought of Mary, your spouse,
And, Joseph, listen a minute;
Your name, if you give me the house.
Joseph, lean now and hear,
The roads of the world are stark,
Lonesome and strange things to fear;
Cover my head from the dark!
The roads of the world are stark,
Lonesome and strange things to fear;
Cover my head from the dark!
Safe out of the rain and wind
I shall be glad, though I'm old,
Singing a song of you, Kind,—
Who gave me a house from the cold.
I shall be glad, though I'm old,
Singing a song of you, Kind,—
Who gave me a house from the cold.
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