In the Carpenter Shop
I wish I had been His apprentice,
To see Him each morning at seven,
As He tossed His gray tunic about Him,
The Master of earth and of heaven;
When He lifted the lid of His work-chest
And opened His carpenter's kit,
And looked at His chisels and augers,
And took the bright tools out of it;
When He gazed at the rising sun tinting
The dew on the opening flowers,
And He smiled at the thought of His Father
Whose love floods this fair world of ours;
When He fastened the apron about Him,
And put on His workingman's cap,
And grasped the smooth haft of His hammer
To give the bent woodwork a tap,
Saying, "Lad, let us finish this ox yoke,
The farmer must finish his crop."
Oh, I wish I had been His apprentice
And worked in the Nazareth shop.
--
Anonymous