Hark The Herald Angel Meek

Once again scrubbing
On my hands and knees,
Choosing to remain like this,
Not to become free
By selling an Angel,
Unlike Judas, showing mercy.
Yet no reward just scrubbing brush
As my winning fee.
Does she know my sacrifice
How I chose to remain
Kneeling, dirty at her feet,
Preserving her pure name?
Does she know of the prize,
The extraordinary gain,
That would have been bestowed on me
If my Devil I'd not tamed?
Just the feathers ruffled
On her spotless wings.
If mine were ruffled out would fly
Dirt amongst other things.
Still her halo glistens,
Of virtue softly sings.
Oh! To own that halo!
To possess that precious ring!
But I chose my destiny
To stay the lowly one,
The one to do the dirty work,
Not blessed with grace just brawn.
And even that is lacking
In my inferior form,
Nothing of me reflected in
The other half, the holy swan.
This is the path I chose
Among my lesser brethren
And I have candlesticks to dust
Bread to bake and leaven,
And though I know no mercy here
Though I supply it seventy time seven,
I softly pray and strongly hope
My reward will be in heaven.