Child,
Wring not thy hands before my tearful eyes,
Though table be barren and we unseen
By those who's parlors are full of laughter
And light, reveling in hilltop manor;
Something will come,
Our Lord hath proclaimed it,
Something will come;
Husband,
Raise not thy fist in angry defiance,
Though need hath sacrificed thy dignity,
Though lords and ladies behold piously
Our plight: idle fancy, cause celebré;
Something will come,
We only need name it,
Something will come;
Father,
Shine Thy mercy upon humble daughter;
As my faith in Thee never hath faltered,
Let not my words prove false to those I love,
That they might see that which Thou hath promised;
Let something come,
That we may acclaim it,
Let something come