The Long View

Some day of days! Some dawning yet to be I shall be clothed with immortality! And, in that day, I shall not greatly care That Jane spilt candle grease upon the stair. It will not grieve me then, as once it did, That careless hands have chipped my teapot 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!