– By Will Allen D

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; 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 fellow pilgrim, near, “You are wasting 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.“