James Weldon Johnson
The Gift to Sing
Sometimes the mist overhangs my path
And blackening clouds about me cling;
But, oh, I have a magic way
To 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