Without him~ the wheels of industry would stop
Without him~ the closing of the shop
Without his wheels ~his tireless vim
The frame~ the chain~ the whirring rim
The ceaseless turn of pedal crank
The moistened brow~ the hair blown lank
Through wind and rain~ all year through
Delivering is his daily due
The piercing whistle~ cheery grin
The ever faithful~ Gunga Din
The world will be a sadder place
When he disappears from face
But we who have known~ still enjoy
The memories of the Errand Boy.