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 building here;
-Will Allen Dromgoole