Whistling At His Work

There is a man in our town

Who works from sun-up ‘till sun down,

     Without a thought of shirk;

He doesn’t watch his clock all day,

Nor frown when labor comes his way,

     He whistles at his work.

He’s made a bit of a success,

Is never under any stress,

     But keeps on feeling chirk;

Old age don’t dare to lay its fist

Upon this anti egotist,

     He whistles at his work.

And when the long day’s work is o’er

His children meet him at the door

     With merry quip and quirk;

He carries home a manner gay,

Because all through the troubled day,

     He’s whistled at his work.

And you, old fellow, does it drag?

Are you a little apt to lag?

     Do bosses say you shirk?

Perhaps the day will quicker end

And you will get there sooner, friend,

     To whistle at your work.

June 8, ‘10