Unnamed v

v.
I often get lost in the Mondays that seem so different 
From no other days in the rest of the week; 
And all blend into one, save but one day, this our Sunday,
When we gather, kneel, stand at preceamus and peace, 
We sing, we silence, we receive, we go out into there;
And all blend into one, save but one word, this our Lord,
Through whom we endure, and all things as well, 
With whom we share, and all things as well,
In whom we are, and all things as well.
Let us forget not this day, nor the work completed therein.