From Rude Rural Rhymes by Bob Adams, New York: The Macmillan Company; 1925; pp. 151-152.
DO IT NOW
In doing work a choice of plan
Is free for any maid or man,
To either labor when they ought to,
Or else to wait until they’ve got to.
The latter method is the one
By which most human tasks are done.
If in the spring betimes I take,
From off its nail my snag tooth rake,
With ease I curry up the lawn,
And burn the trash that lay thereon.
If then I seize the waiting mower
And drag it through the open door,
That tool and I, like frolic friskers,
Slip o’er the lawn and trim its whiskers.
While here and there I go a scooting,
The weeds and grass fly scalahooting;
In joyful haste the task is sped;
The lawn is slick as buttered bread.
But if I let the raking go,
And let the dandelions grow,
The mower clogs on hill and hummock;
The handle jabs me in the stomach,
And thus against my gizzard pressed,
[152]
It knocks my temper galley west.
Instead of dallying and chewing
The needed tasks we should be doing.
In skirt or shirt or waist or britches,
A stitch in time saves lots of stitches.
When death shall give us our quietus,
Well finished work in heaven will greet us,
But jobs undone will rise to vex us
And swat us in the solar plexus.