A Builder builded 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 Mother builded a temple,
With loving and infinite care,
Planning each arch with patience,
Laying each stone with prayer.
None praise her unceasing efforts,
None knew of her wondrous plan
For the temple the Mother builded
Was unseen by 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 Mother builded,
Will last while the ages roll,
For that beautiful unseen temple
Was a child’s immortal soul.