An old man traveling a lonely highway
came at the evening cold and gray
to a chasm, deep and wide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim
for the sullen stream had no fears for him.
But he turned when he reached the other side
and built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man, “cried a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting your strength by building here.
Your journey will end with the ending day
and you’ll never again pass this way.
You’ve crossed the chasm deep and wide.
Why build you a bridge at eventide?”
And the builder raised his
old gray head,
“Good friend, on the path I’ve come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today
a youth whose feet must pass this way.
This stream which has been naught to me
To that fair-haired boy may a pitfall be.
He too must cross in the twilight dim.
Good friend, I build this bridge for him.”
