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P忙an of Joy

What a wonderful day!
As I walked through the woods,
As I noticed where deer had late lain.
And I whistled a tune that nobody鈥檚 heard
And that no one will hear again.

On grass and on stone
Did my light footsteps tread,
As I marched through the rugged terrain.
And I whistled a tune that nobody鈥檚 heard
And that no one will hear again.

The mockingbird sang
(Oh that plagiarist bird!),
Sang the notes of my new-found refrain,
As I whistled a tune that nobody鈥檚 heard
And that no one will hear again.

With the gay sunshine bright
And the flower鈥檚 fair face,
My joy I could hardly contain,
As I whistled the tune that nobody鈥檚 heard
And that no one will hear again.

Then the southern wind blew,
And with fingers so light
Deftly caught up the notes of my strain,
While I whistled the tune that nobody鈥檚 heard
And that no one will hear again.

Though that tune is now gone,
And the notes in my head
Have since flown and no longer remain,
I was whistling for joy, and so therefore, I think
That my music was not made in vain.

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