The Bridge Builder

An old man, going a lone highway,
came, at the evening, cold and gray,

to a chasm, vast, and deep, and wide,
through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
the sullen stream had no fears for him;
but he turned, when safe on the other side,
and built a bridge to span the tide.

"Old man," said a fellow pilgrim near,
"you are wasting strength with building here;
your journey will end with the ending day;
you never again must pass this way;
you have crossed the chasm, deep and wide -
why build you the bridge at the eventide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head:
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"there followeth after me today
a youth, whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm, that has been naught to me,
to that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
good friend, I am building the bridge for him."