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-track     The 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 drear     And the stars refuse to shine:     And a gleam that mocks the starlight clear     Within you glows benign.     Till the dearth of light in the glooming skies     Is 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 true     To exorcise grim Toil.     It will lighten your burden and make you feel     That 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'er     Till 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.