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1871–1938

THE GIFT TO SING

James Weldon Johnson

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.

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THE GIFT TO SING · James Weldon Johnson · Poetry Cove