500
Recite the Bridge Builder
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 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,
Your never again will pass this way.
You've crossed the chasm deep and wide.
Why build you this bridge at evening tide?”
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 this bridge for him.”