DEICATED TO THE READER

 

THE BRIDGE BUILDER

An old man traveling a lonely highway, Came at evening time, cold and gray, To a chasm, vast and wide and steep, With waters running cold and deep.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim, for the sullen stream held no fears for him. Yet, he turned when he reached the other side, And he built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man!” cried a fellow pilgrim near. “You're wasting your strength with building here. Your journey will end with the ending day, And you never again will pass this way. You've crossed this chasm deep and wide, Why build a bridge at the eventide?”

The builder lifted his old grey head. “Good friend, on the pathe I've trod,” he said, “There follows after me this day, A youth whose feet ...

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