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The Bridge Builder
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 fears 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 strength with building here;...
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