To-morrow

 To-morrow
by Edgar Guest 

He was going to be all that a mortal should be
 To-morrow.
 No one should be kinder or braver than he
 To-morrow.
 A friend who was troubled and weary he knew,
Who'd be glad of a lift and who needed it, too;
On him he would call and see what he could do
To-morrow. 

 Each morning he stacked up the letters he'd write
 To-morrow.
 And thought of the folks he would fill with delight
 To-morrow.
 It was too bad, indeed, he was busy to-day,
 And hadn't a minute to stop on his way;
 More time he would have to give others, he'd say,
 To-morrow. 

 The greatest of workers this man would have been
 To-morrow.
 The world would have known him, had he ever seen
 To-morrow.
But the fact is he died and he faded from view,
And all that he left here when living was through
 Was a mountain of things he intended to do
 To-morrow.