My Virtual Reading Room

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... )