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An old man,going a lone highway, Came,at the evening,cold and grey,To a chasm,vast and deep and wide,Through which was flowing a sullen tide. The old man crossed in 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 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 the bridge at the even tide?The builder lifted his old grey 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 pit fall be, He to must cross in the twilight dim, Good friend,iam building the bridge for for him.
Thanks for that The Bridge Builder by Will Allen Dromgoole.
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