The Bridge Builder

An old man going along his way
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,
With steps it seemed were known to him
Then built a bridge as he'd once been taught
With two trees felled and a rope he'd brought.

"Old man," said a fellow-pilgrim near,
"Your wasting strength with building here.
You must go on at break of day,
You never again will pass this way.
You've crossed the chasm deep and wide,
Why build a bridge at the even tide?"

The builder lifted his old grey head,
"Good friend, in the path I've come," he said,
"There follows 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 built the bridge for him."


By Will Allen Dromgoole, (modified by Tom Schattke)