little mr. by-and-by,

you will mark him by his cry,

and the way he loiters when

called again and yet again,

glum if he must leave his play,

though all time be holiday.

little mr. by-and-by,

eyes cast down and mouth awry!

in the mountains of the moon

he is known as pretty soon;

and he is cousin to don’t care,

as no doubt you’re well aware.

little mr. by-and-by

always has a fretful “why?”

when he’s asked to come or go;

like his sister—susan slow.

hope we’ll never, you or i,

be like mr. by-and-by.