IT for Teachers

Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wears
Thick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:
Uneasy lies the heads of all that rule,
His worst of all whose kingdom is a school.
Supreme he sits; before the awful frown
That binds his brows the boldest eye goes down;
Not more submissive Israel heard and saw
At Sinai's foot the Giver of the Law.

Fas est ab hoste doceri.

Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
Fit to instruct her youth. * * *
* * * To cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing up.