An old Brother on 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 Brother crossed in the twilight dim;
For the sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
To build a bridge to span the tide.
“Old Brother,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting your strength in building here:
Your journey will end with the close of day;
You never again will pass his way;
You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide –
Why build this bridge at the evening tide?”
The Brother lifted his old gray head:
“My Brother, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today,
A young Brother, whose feet must pass this way.
“This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that young Brother may a pitfall be,
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
My Brother, I’m building this bridge for him.”