A builder built a temple; he wrought it with grace and skill;

Pillars and groins and arches, all fashioned to work his will.

Men said as they saw its beauty, “It shall never know decay:

Great is thy skill, O builder, thy fame shall endure for aye.”

A teacher built a temple, with loving and infinite care;

Planning each arch with patience; laying each stone with prayer.

None praised her unceasing efforts, none knew of her wondrous plan,

For the temple the teacher built was unseen bye the eyes of man.

Gone is the builder’s temple, crumbled into the dust.

Low lies each stately pillar, food for consuming rust.

But the temple the teacher built will last while the ages roll;

For the beautiful unseen temple was a child’s immortal soul!


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