• Author: Unknown
• Editor: B-7413
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 6
• Page Number:
• Date: 10 17 1917
• Tags:
• poetry

THE MAN WHO DELIVERS THE GOODS

There’s a man in the world who is never turned down Wherever he chances to stray; He gets the glad hand in the populous town Or out where the farmers make hay. He’s greeted with pleasure on deserts of sand, And deep in the aisles of the wood; Wherever he goes—there’s a welcoming hand—he’s The man who delivers the goods.

The failures of life sit around and complain, The gods haven’t treated them white; They’ve lost there umbrellas whenever there’s rain, And they haven’t their lanterns at night. Men tire of failures who fill with their sighs The air of their own neighborhoods; There’s a man who is greeted with love lighted eyes—he’s The man who delivers the goods.

One fellow is lazy and watches the clock And waits for the whistle to blow; And one has a hammer with which he will knock, And one tells a story of woe. And one if requested to travel a mile Will measure the perches and roods; But one does his stunt with a whistle and smile—he’s The man who delivers the goods.

One man is afraid that he’ll labor too hard, The world isn’t yearning for such; And one man is ever alert—on his guard— Lest he put in a minute too much. One has a grouch on, a temper that’s bad, And one is a creature of moods; So it’s me for the joyous and rollicking lad— for The man who delivers the goods.