He wrought it with grace and skill;

Pillars and groins and arches

All fashioned to work his will.

"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 praised her unceasing efforts;

None knew of her wondrous plan,

For the temple the Mother builded

Was unseen by trhe eyes of man.

Gone is the Builder’s temple;

Crumpled 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