The Gift to Sing

Sometimes the mist overhangs my path,And blackening clouds about me cling;But, oh, I have a magic wayTo turn the gloom to cheerful day—I softly sing.

And if the way grows darker still,Shadowed by Sorrow's somber wing,With glad defiance in my throat,I pierce the darkness with a note,And sing, and sing.

I brood not over the broken past,Nor dread whatever time may bring;No nights are dark, no days are long,While in my heart there swells a song,And I can sing.