BUILDING A BRIDGE FOR HIM

An old man, going a lone 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 had no fear 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 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 this bridge at eventide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head--
"Good friend, in the path I had come," he said,
"There followeth after me, today
A youth, whose feet must pass this way;
This chasm that has been naught for 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."