Some day of days!
Some dawning yet to be
I shall be clothed
And, in that day,
I shall not greatly care
That Jane spilt candle wax upon the stair.
It will not grieve me then,
as once it did,
That careless hands have chipped my tea pot lid.
I groan, being burdened.
But, in that glad day,
I shall forget vexations of the way.
That needs were often great, when means were small,
Will not perplex me any more at all.
A few short years at most (it may be less),
I shall have done with earthly storm and stress.
So for This Day,
I lay me at Thy feet.
O, keep me sweet, my Master!
Keep me sweet!