An old man, going a lone highway,
Came, in the evening, cold and gray,
To a valley, vast, and deep, and wide,
Through which was flowing an angry tide.
The old man crossed it in the twilight dim;
The angry 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 an angel, near,
"You are wasting strength by building here;
Your journey will end with the night today;
You will never again pass this way;
You have crossed the stream, deep and wide-
Why build a bridge at this evening time?"
The builder lifted his old gray head;
"Good friend, in the path I have come," he said,
"Youth will follow after me today,
Whose feet must pass this way,
This stream, that has been fair to me,
To that youth, may not be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him."