Tired with trying to make a name.
'To-morrow,' I say, 'I will call on Jim,
Just to show that I'm thinking of him.'
But to-morrow comes and to-morrow goes,
And the distance between us grows and grows,
Around the corner—yet miles away. . . .
'Here's a telegram, sir.' 'Jim died to-day!'
And that's what we get and deserve in the end—
Around the corner a vanished friend.
I really intended to have pressed the button at Jim's door; but the good intentions did not ring the bell; and I am left to nurse my lifelong remorse.