The Bridge Builder

This beautiful poem has been running through my mind today, 
so I thought I would share it with you. 
It's written by Will Allen Dromgoole (1860-1934)
She was a prolific author who also served in the U.S. Naval Reserves.

    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 swollen tide.
    The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
    The rapids held no fears for him.
    But he turned when safe on the other side
    And built a bridge to span the tide.

    “Old man,” cried a fellow pilgrim near,
    “You’re wasting your time in building here.
    Your journey will end with the closing day;
    You never again will pass this way.
    You have crossed the chasm deep and wide;
    Why build you this bridge at even-tide?”

    The builder lifted his old gray head.
    “Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
    “There follows after me today
    A youth whose feet must pass this way.
    This stream, which has been as naught to me,
    To that fair youth may a pitfall be.
    He too must cross in the twilight dim —
    Good friend, I am building this bridge for him.”

Remembering That Freedom Isn't Free

Remembering That Freedom Isn't Free
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