But Jesus grew in stature: and when He,
As Man, became mature, then tenderly
To Joseph's soul it was revealed, that he
His work had finished. Meek, resignedly,
Bowed he his head to the Divine decree.
Age came on quickly. He had learned to be
Wrapped in the Love of Jesus; yet was he
Ever intent on working patiently:
No other guerdon claiming, but to see
How best to smooth that lot of poverty.
How had his own been blest. How fervently
The Lord he praised who him had chosen to be
The House-provider for His Family.
How watched he every footstep. How did he
Hang on each look of Jesus, reverently.
But not to Joseph dare we deem would be
Revealed the Light which Mary, constantly
Kept in her secret counsel. Why should he
Be harrowed by a vision of which she
Alone was called to share the mystery?
All through those years he knew enough to be
A faithful Servant. True; we ever see
That little is foreshown of destiny.
By faith we live; that so each day may we
Its portion learn of God's all-just Decree.
A Shadow of Eternal Love was he
Over those Blessed Ones. All care, that he
Had in his power to spare Them, sure would be
Never neglected. Him to spare, would be
The care of Him who loveth tenderly.
The Master calls: his hour is come to die.
The Priest he knows is God, who graciously
Consoles and blesses; while all tearfully
Holding his hand, the Virgin-Wife kneels by.
Thus passed the Soul in peace, in ecstasy.
- text taken from Mary: The Perfect Woman, by Emily Mary Shapcote