A MAN CAN’T READ HIS TOMBSTONE WHEN HE’S DEAD
When, with pleasure, you are viewing
Any work a man is doing
And you like him, or you love him,
Tell him now.
Do not withhold your approbation
‘Til the parson makes oration
And he lies with snowy lilies on his brow.
For no matter how you shout it
He won’t know a thing about it;
He won’t know the many tear drops that you shed,
If you think that praise is due him,
Now’s the time to give it to him.
Cause a man can’t read his tombstone when he’d dead.
More than fame and more than money
Is your word both kind and sunny
And the hearty, warm approval of a friend.
It gives to life a savor
Makes us stronger, and yes, braver
And it gives us true encouragement to the end.
If he wins your praise, bestow it;
If you like him, let him know it.
Let the words of true encouragement be said.
Do not wait ‘til life is over,
And he lies beneath the clover,
Cause a man can’t read his tombstone when he’s dead.