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 even 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."
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