It is the Eternal Whistler
Who goes whistling through the sky;
And at his heels run the weary Dogs
Who have come to him to die.
He whistles them over the far-off clouds
And up to the shining gate,
And then he whistles a different tune,
And they sit, and they pant, and they wait.
Then he whistles a sudden, piercing note,
And s-l-o-w-l-y the gate swings wide,
And when nobody's looking ... Saint Peter winks ...
And hustles them all inside.
(Author unknown)
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