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.

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The old man crossed in the twilight dim;

The sullen stream had no fear for him;

But he turned, when safe on the other side,

And built a bridge to span the tide.

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"Old Man," said a fellow pilgrim, near,

"You are wasting your strength with building here;

Your journey will end with the ending day,

You never again will pass this way;

You've crossed the chasm, deep and wide,

Why build you this bridge at the evening tide?"

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The builder lifted his old gray head;

Good friend, in the path I have come," he said, 

"There follows after me to-day

A youth whose feet must pass this way.

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This chasm that 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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                   -Will  Allen  Dromgoole