And watch the little Son thrive and eat.
The vine curls by the window space,
The wings of angels cover the face.
Up in the rafters, polished and olden,
There’s a Dove that broods and his wings are golden.
You who kept Them through shine and storm,
A staff, a shelter kindly and warm,
Father of Jesus, husband of Mary,
Hold us your lilies for sanctuary!
Joseph, honoured from sea to sea,