| This is the best time of the day-the dawn
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| The final cleansing breath unsullied yet
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| By acrid fume or death’s cacophony
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| The rank refuse of unchained ambition
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| And pray, deny me not but know me now,
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| Your faithful retainer stands resolute
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| To serve his liege lord without recompense
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| Perchance to fall and perish namelessly
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| No flag-draped bier or muffled drum to set
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| The cadence for a final dress parade
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| But it was not always thus-remember?
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| Once you worshipped me and named me a god
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| In many tongues and made offering lest
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| I exact too terrible a tribute
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| Take heed for I am weary, ancient
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| And decrepit now and my time grows short
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| There are no honorable frays to join
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| Only mean death dealt out in dibs and dabs
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| Or horror unleashed from across oceans
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| Assail me not with noble policy
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| For I care not at all for platitude
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| And surrender such tedious detail
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| To greater minds than mine and nimbler tongues
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| Singular in their purpose and resolve
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| And presuming to speak for everyman
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| Oh, for another time, a distant field
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| And there a mortal warrior’s lonely grave
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| But duty charges me remain until
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| The end the last battle of the last war
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| Until that 'morrow render unto me
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| That which is mine my stipend well deserved
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| The fairest flower of your progeny
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| Your sons, your daughters your hopes and your dreams
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| The cruel consequence of your conceit |