Saint Columbkille's PS Carrickmore

Unity I dreamed I stood in a studio And watched two sculptors there The clay they used was a young child's mind and they fashioned it with care. One was a teacher; the tools he used Were music books and art; one a parent with a guiding hand, and a gentle loving heart. Day after day the teacher toiled With touch that was deft and sure While the parent laboured by his side And polished and smothered it o'er. And when at last their task was done They were proud of what they had wrought For the things they had moulded into the child Could neither be sold or bought. And each agreed he would have failed If he had worked alone For behind the parent stood the school And behind the teacher the home.