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.
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 pilgrim near,
“You are wasting your strength building here;
Your journey will end at the ending day,
You never again will pass this way;
You’ve crossed the chasm deep and wide,
Why build this bridge at evening tide?”
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 as naught to me
To that fair-headed youth may a pitfall be,
He too, must cross in the twilight dim,
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him.”