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THE BRIDGE BUILDER

(Unknown)

An old man, going down a lonely highway,

Came at the evening cold and gray,

To a chasm vast and wide,

Through which was flowing a swollen tide,

The old man crossed in the twilight dim,

The swollen 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 pilgrim near,

"You are wasting your strength in building here.

Your journey will end at the closing of day,

You will never again pass this way.

You have crossed the chasm deep and wide,

WHY BUILD YOU A BRIDGE AT EVENING TIDE?"


The builder lifted his old gray head:

"GOOD FRIEND, IN THE PATH I HAVE COME,"

HE SAID, "THERE FOLLOWED AFTER ME TODAY

A FAIR HAIRED YOUTH WHOSE FEET MUST PASS THIS WAY,

THE 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 BUILD THIS BRIDGE FOR HIM!

Unknown

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