Just Whistle a Bit
Just whistle a bit, if the day be dark,And the sky be overcast:If mute be the voice of the piping lark,Why, pipe your own small blast.
And it’s wonderful how o’er the gray sky-trackThe truant warbler comes stealing back.But why need he come? for your soul’s at rest,And the song in the heart,—ah, that is best.
Just whistle a bit, if the night be drearAnd the stars refuse to shine:And a gleam that mocks the starlight clearWithin you glows benign.
Till the dearth of light in the glooming skiesIs lost to the sight of your soul-lit eyes.What matters the absence of moon or star?The light within is the best by far.
Just whistle a bit, if there ‘s work to do,With the mind or in the soil.And your note will turn out a talisman trueTo exorcise grim Toil.
It will lighten your burden and make you feelThat there ‘s nothing like work as a sauce for a meal.And with song in your heart and the meal in—its place,There ‘ll be joy in your bosom and light in your face.
Just whistle a bit, if your heart be sore;’Tis a wonderful balm for pain.Just pipe some old melody o’er and o’erTill it soothes like summer rain.
And perhaps ‘t would be best in a later day,When Death comes stalking down the way,To knock at your bosom and see if you ‘re fit,Then, as you wait calmly, just whistle a bit.