[ WP ] Turn your favourite song into a piece of prose/poetry without mentioning the song .

To dawn, so rich with honeyed dew I wake 
 
 And yet the millstone ’ s grind doth claim my station 
 
 Alas! Such toils my brazen youth shall take 
 
 And march this wailing soul t ’ ward abdication 
 
 This selfsame sun which broke ‘ cross gentle shore 
 
 With matron ’ s wink and sweet perfume of hope 
 
 Doth now a harsher aspect bring to fore 
 
 And lash with ceaseless flame and plowman ’ s rope 
 
 Whatfor I ’ m driven ‘ neath a cracking whip 
 
 The terse and ruthless master speaketh not 
 
 And silence keeps he with a tight ’ ning grip 
 
 While ploweth we this damn ’ d and futile plot 
 
 I would yet to my olden homeland run 
 
 But lost my bearings ‘ neath this godless sun!
