An old man traveling a long 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 held no fears for him,
But he turned when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” cried a fellow pilgrim near,
“You’re wasting your time in building here.”
“Your journey will end with the closing day;
“You never again will pass this way.
“You have crossed the chasm deep and wide,
Why build you 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 stream which has been as 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 this bridge for him.”
Author: Ms Will Allen Dromgoole
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