Haste ye not

A tritina type poem written in old english about going to work.

Arise Sir lazy-bones and don thy garb with haste
Brush ye fangs attend ye wig and swiftly to thy burden
Master awaits, time is scant, forsake thy break of fast

Oppressive toil for pittance paid, least thou surly fast
Workdays dawdle slothfully while weekends fly with haste
Escort thy in pile to thou out, keep stolid in thy burden

Oh shrilling rooster of the morn, prompter of my burden
Still the dark, sun reposed, me-thinks that thou art fast
Dare not stir me from thou sleep, ‘tis no time for haste

Haste ye not to thou burden by alarm clocks that art fast

(first wrtten 2008)

(A-B-C, C-A-B, B-C-A - ABC)