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Not Be Outdone

by Mark Henderson © 2020

I wake up in the morning
To the sound of praise
On a breeze from within
Which lifts sleep's haze
A melody in the chambers
Of a still sleepy soul
Of a lofty choir singing
Though earth still cold
And arising from covers
Just to fall on my knees
To worship the Lamb
Though slain now lives
For He makes the mornings
And He guides its days
He empowers the cosmos
By the glory of His name
He knows no beginning
And His rule no end
His voice the language
All nature comprehends
The mountains He lifts
And the trees He sways
And even its rocks
Know to sound His praise
The Alpha and Omega
The Ancient of Days
The Bright and Morning Star
Who informs light's rays
And This is the One
Who awakens me
In the wee morning hours
That I might be free
Free from a night
And free from its shadows
Free from an adversary
Whose end but gallows
So I will sing His praise
At a still dark clock
That I not be outdone
By the unfeeling rock.

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