| |
| ‘ISN’T this Joseph’s son?’—ay, it is He; | |
| I Joseph the carpenter—same trade as me— | |
| I thought as I’d find it—I knew it was here— | |
| But my sight’s getting queer. | |
| |
| I don’t know right where, as His shed must ha’ stood— | 5 |
| But often, as I’ve been a-planing my wood, | |
| I’ve took off my hat, just with thinking of He | |
| At the same work as me. | |
| |
| He warn’t that set up that He couldn’t stoop down | |
| And work in the country for folks in the town; | 10 |
| And I’ll warrant He felt a bit pride, like I’ve done | |
| At a good job begun. | |
| |
| The parson he knows that I’ll not make too free, | |
| But on Sunday I feels as pleased as can be, | |
| When I wears my clean smock, and sits in a pew, | 15 |
| And has thoughts a few. | |
| |
| I think of as how not the parson hissen, | |
| As is teacher and father and shepherd o’ men, | |
| Not he knows as much of the Lord in that shed, | |
| Where He earned His own bread. | 20 |
| |
| And when I goes home to my missus, says she, | |
| “Are ye wanting your key?” | |
| For she knows my queer ways, and my love for the shed, | |
| (We’ve been forty years wed). | |
| |
| So I comes right away by mysen, with the book, | 25 |
| And I turns the old pages and has a good look | |
| For the text as I’ve found, as tells me as He | |
| Were the same trade as me. | |
| |
| Why don’t I mark it? Ah, many says so, | |
| But I think I’d as lief, with your leave let it go: | 30 |
| It do seem that nice when I fall on it sudden— | |
| Unexpected you know! | |
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