The Man Who’s Always Out

               

There is the man you wish to see

      Up many flights of stairs;

One who perhaps you meant to catch

And corner unawares,

But who, when you have reached his desk,

      And look in vain about,

You’re told by someone sitting by:

      “Yes, Mr. Blank is out.”

Next day you call on him again,

      A different hour mayhap;

You think you’ll land him easily,

So well you’ve set your trap.

You’ve taken off your right hand glove –

      To say you’re just about:

“I’m glad to find you in, old man” –

      When lo! You find him out.

It’s just the same all through your life,

      You think he’s in, no doubt;

You’re sure you’ve found him in at last,

      And yet you find him out.

It is no use to spend your time –

      Keep on what you’re about;

You’ll never find him in, my friend,

      The man who’s always out.

Jan. 18 , ‘09