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.
       The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
       The sullen stream had no fears 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 strength with building here;
       Your journey will end with the ending day;
       You never again must pass this way;
       You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
       Why build you a bridge at the eventide?"

       The builder lifted his old gray head:
       "Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
       "There followeth 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 am building the bridge for him."

       -Will Allen Dromgoole