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;
Te
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 your 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.”
Will Allen Dromgoogle