Building the Bridge
for Him
An old man, traveling a lone highway;
Came at evening cold and gray,
To a chasm deep and wide.
The old man crossed in twilight
dim,
For the sullen stream held no
fears for him,
But he turned when he reached
the other side.
And builded a bridge to span
the tide.
"Old man," cried a fellow pilgrim
near,
"You are wasting your strength
with building here;
Your journey will end with the
ending day,
And you never again will pass
this way.
"You have crossed the chasm deep
and wide.
Why build you a bridge at eventide?"
And the builder raised his old
gray head:
"Good friend, on the path I have
come," he said,
"There followeth after me today
A youth whose feet will pass
this way.
"This stream which has been as
naught to me
To that fair-haired boy may a
pitfall be;
He, too, must cross in the twilight
dim--
Good friend, I am building this
bridge for him."
W. A. Dromgoole,
( Sourcebook of Poetry, p.15.)