The Gift to Sing-James Weldon Johnson

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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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