On This Dawn Of Sabbath Morn'

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It is the dawn of Sabbath morn',

and my slumbered comfort sprawling has exploded by the calling of myself to wake and dress.

Wake and dress!?

Protest I will to leave this bed, my hallowed nest!

Even God on the seventh day did He, not rest?

Still, she calls with saintly feature but I, the perfect Earthly creature have no need for church and beseech her to let me sleep this Sabbath morn'!

But to no avail is my pleading, my heart on the verge of bleeding.

Can it be that loud so beating?

No, she's stomping out of my room!

Alas!

Alas! 

My freedom this morn' I have earned and so I adorn all of my powers of persuasion, forlorn!

For my slumbered comfort sprawling and need for sleep is falling fast away,

A N D   A W A K E   ' M   T O R N  !

On This Dawn Of Sabbath Morn'.

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