‘The Bridge Builder’
An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening, cold and grey,
To a chasm, vast and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim,
That 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,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You’re wasting strength in building here.
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way.
You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide,
Why build you the bridge at eventide?”
The builder lifted his old grey 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 nought 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.”
by Will Allen Dromgoole