MASONIC POETRY PAGE
CONTENT
FOR MEN MUST BROTHERS
BE
THE FRATERNAL
TYE
MASTER MASON'S POEM
"Last Night I Knelt Where Hiram Knelt"
WHAT MAKES A MAN A
MASON?
OUR WORSHIPFUL BROTHER, GEORGE WASHINGTON
THE MEANING OF THE WORD "BROTHER"
ONE
LODGE
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Poems Inspired by Masonry
Thank you for visiting the Masonic Poetry section of this website. Many of these poems hit home with me and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. You can either scroll down to view the poems or find the list of poems n the left column and click on the poem's name to go to the poem. To go back to the list from any poem, click on the compass and square bar at the end of each poem. If you have any masonic inspired poems you have written or someone else wrote that you think should be included, please e-mail it to me with correct attribution. If you have any questions, suggestions or comments, please do not hesitate to e-mail me.
The following two poems were written by masons during the American civil war.
FOR MEN MUST BROTHERS
BE
- By Conrad Hahn
Then blood was shed, and there was slaughter,
Staining the soil of our brave new world;
When brothers, to defend their freedom as they knew it,
Cruel canister at one another hurled.
Still sleep the brave
Who fell so long ago.
But life is love
And love they gave
Who saw a Brother in the foe.
A chosen few, with hopes despairing,
Insisted yet that Craftsmen try
To build the House of Brotherhood. In North and South
With love they wove, strands of the Mystic Tie.
Now sleep the wise
Who labored long ago.
For life is love
And love they gave
Who knew a Brother, though a foe.
Bright symbol of those war-time mercies
Was Brother Mackey, Charleston's pride.
Begging his townsmen for some simple comforts
For lonely captives from the Union side.
Now sleep those hearts
That loved so long ago.
But life is love
And love they gave
Who served a Brother, though a foe.
But men still wage a bitter warfare
Against the powers of hate and greed.
Ignorance spawns anew her coarse and spiteful soldiers;
Yet brothers everywhere our love still need.
Now wake the souls
Of those who dare to see
That life is love
And love will win
Wherever men must Brothers be!
- Author unknown
Tired with the long day's marching,
A Union soldier stood
By the banks of a rushing river,
In a dim old Kansas wood.
The gnarled roots of the oak trees
Grew snaky along the ground;
The vines with their purple burden
In the giants' arms were wound.
The songs of the birds in the coverts
Came sweet to the soldier's ear;
The medley of songs in the woodland
Gushed forth without not of fear.
The sunbeams stole through the branches
Over the turbulent stream,
And gilded the snowy wave tops
That fleeted away like a dream.
But scarce had these joys impressed him,
When loud through the forest broke
The taunts and the bitter curses
That Quantrell's guerrillas spoke.
He turned; and his deadly rifle
Was poised in his supple hands;
"Ha, ha! We have trapped a Blue Back;
Empty his brains where he stands."
Sharp was the click of their pistols;
Certain the aim that they took.
Vain to contend with the ruffians;
Fierce was the hate in their look.
He glanced at the eager bloodhounds;
One hope illumined despair;
He tried them' a rebel sprang forward:
" A brother! Harm him who dare.
Pistols were dropped in an instant;
Unharmed, in the dim old wood,
By the banks of the rushing river,
The Union soldier stood.
MASTER MASON'S POEM
"Last Night I Knelt Where Hiram Knelt"
- Author Unknown
Last Night I knelt where Hiram knelt
And took an obligation
Today I'm closer to my God
And I'm a Master Mason
Tho' heretofore my fellow men
Seemed each one like the other,
Today I search each one apart;
I'm looking for my Brother
And, as I feel his friendly grip,
It fills my heart with pride;
I know that while I'm on the square,
That he is on my side
His footsteps on my errand go
If I should such require;
His prayers will plead in my behalf
If I should so desire.
My words are safe within his breast
As though within my own;
His hand forever at my back
To help me safely Home.
Good counsel whispers in my ear
An warns of any danger;
By square and compass Brother now!
Who once would call me stranger.
I might have lived a moral life
And risen to distinctions
Without my Brother's helping hand
And fellowship of Masons
But God, who knows how hard it is
To resist life's temptations
Knows why I knelt where Hiram knelt
And took that obligation.
WHAT MAKES A MAN A
MASON?
- By George M. Free
What makes a man a Mason, O brother of mine?
It isn't the due guard, nor is it the sign,
It isn't the jewel which hangs on your breast
It isn't the apron in which you are dressed
It isn't the step, nor the token, nor the grip,
Nor lectures that fluently flow from the lip,
Nor yet the possession of that mystic word
On five points of fellowship duly conferred.
Though these are essential, desirable, fine,
They don't make a Mason, O brother of mine.
That you to your sworn obligation are true
'Tis that, brother mine, makes a Mason of you.
Secure in your heart you must safeguard and trust,
With lodge and with brother be honest and just,
Assist the deserving who cry in their need,
Be chaste in your thought, in your word and your deed.
Support he who falters, with hope banish fear,
And whisper advice in an erring one's ear.
Then will the Great Lights on your path brightly shine,
And you'll be a Mason, O brother of mine.
Your use of life's hours by the gauge you must try,
The gavel of vices with courage apply;
Your walk must be upright, as shown by the plumb,
On the level, to bourn whence no travelers come,
The Book of your faith be the rule and the guide,
The compass your passions shut safely inside;
The stone which the Architect placed in your care
Must pass the strict test of His unerring square.
And then you will meet
with approval divine,
And you'll be a Mason,
O brother of mine.
I SAT IN LODGE WITH
YOU
By Wilbur D. Nesbit
There is a saying filled with cheer,
Which calls a man to fellowship.
It means as much for him to hear
As lies within the brother grip.
Nay, more! It opens wide the way
To friendliness sincere and true;
There are no strangers when you say
To me: "I sat in lodge with you."
When that is said, then I am known;
There is no questioning nor doubt;
I need not walk my path alone
Nor from my fellows be shut out.
Those words hold all of brotherhood
And help me face the world anew
There's something deep and rich and good
In this: "I sat in lodge with you."
Though in far lands one needs must roam
By sea and shore and hill and plain,
Those words bring him a touch of home
And lighten tasks that seem in vain.
Men's faces are no longer strange
But seem as those he always knew
When some one brings the joyous change
With this: "I sat in lodge with you."
So you, my brother, now and then
Have often put me in your debt
By showing forth to other men
That you your friends do not forget.
When all the world seems gray and cold
And I am weary, worn and blue
Then comes this golden thought I hold
You said: "I sat in lodge with you."
When to the last great Lodge you fare
My prayer is that I may be
One of your friends who wait you there
Intent your smiling face to see.
We, with the warden at the gate,
Will have a pleasant task to do;
We'll call, though you come soon or late:
"Come in! We sat in lodge with you!"
THE FIRST
LINE
- By Earl W. Owens (Belpre (Ohio) Lodge #609)
It's Lodge Night, and I'm getting ready
To assemble myself with the craft;
I've gone through my lecture so many times
Seems I know it now, both fore and aft.
I'm confident I guess. And I should be
For I've spoken many months in a mumble;
I know that the Brethren, will all be impressed
When you're good, It's hard to be humble.
So it's out to the car, and away I go
Then fear strikes me, clear to the bone;
I'd better go through this. Just one more time,
It's my last chance, while I'm still alone.
I've hardly noticed this trip at all
Now suddenly, I'm parking the car;
My hearts beating wildly. As I climb the stairs
I hear voices. Not near, but far.
Their lips are all moving, but I don't hear a word
I have to concentrate on my First Line;
Sure it'll be easier the next time around
But the trick is to do it the first time.
The Lodge is now open, and the work has begun
The first section's about to come to a close;
Gee, I should have gone to the men's room.
I feel faint, and I can't breathe through my nose.
They've just called my name, and I've taken my place
Boy! They don't give a feller much time;
And I've lost my book in a shirt with one pocket
And I can't remember my First Line.
I've learned a good lesson. It is I who's impressed
And I shall never forget this first time;
After all of the prompting, I now am convinced,
Know it all, as good as the First Line!!
BY THE WORK
YOU DID TODAY
- By Charles L. Mead 33° (Boynton Lodge #236)
Can you say tonight in parting
with the day that's slipping past
That you helped a single brother
of the many that you passed?
Is a single heart rejoicing
over what you did and said?
Does the man whose hopes where fading,
Now with courage look ahead?
Did you waste the day or lose it,
Was it well or poorly spent?
Did you leave a trail of kindness,
Or a scar of discontent?
As you close your eyes in slumber,
Do you think God will say,
You have earned one more tomorrow,
By the work you did today
THE LAMB
SKIN
- By Edgar A. Guest
It is not ornamental, the cost is not great,
There are other things far more useful, yet truly I state,
Tho of all my possesions, there's none can compare,
With that white leather apron, which all Masons wear.
As a young lad I wondered just what it all meant,
When Dad hustled around, and so much time was spent
On shaving and dressing and looking just right,
Until Mother would say: "It's the Masons tonight."
And some winter nights she said: "What makes you go,
Way up there tonight thru the sleet and the snow,
You see the same things every month of the year."
Then Dad would reply: "Yes, I know it, my dear."
Forty years I have seen the same things, it is true.
And though they are old, they always seem new,
For the hands that I clasp, and the friends that I greet,
Seem a little bit closer each time that we meet."
Years later I stood at that very same door,
With good men and true who had entered before,
I knelt at the alter, and there I was taught
That virtue and honor can never be bought.
That the spotless white lambskin all Masons revere,
If worthily worn grows more precious each year,
That service to others brings blessings untold,
That man may be poor tho surrounded by gold.
I learned that true brotherhood flourishes there,
That enmities fade 'neath the compass and square,
That wealth and position are all thrust aside,
As there on the level men meet and abide.
So, honor the lambskin, may it always remain
Forever unblemished, and free from all stain,
And when we are called to the Great Father's love,
May we all take our place in that Lodge up above.
TAKE MY HAND; FOLLOW
ME
- By Sir Knight Alvin F. Bohne, P.M.
When I was a young man, a long time ago,
The secrets of Masonry I wanted to know.
Of a Mason I asked what those secrets might be.
He replied,"First, we talk, then we will see."
A petition he granted and ordered it filled
To be read at a meeting and a judgment be willed.
Then questions I answered about God and home;
Of habits and friends; a wife or alone.
In time I was summoned - a date to appear
Before an assembly of men gathered near.
I entered the building and looked up the stair;
Does pleasure or pain await me up there?
A hazing by paddle, taunting by joke?
My petition accepted or maybe revoked?
Introductions and handshakes welcomed me there
And lessons symbolic, an aid to prepare
For a journey in darkness, a predestined plight
To a Holy of Holies, the source of all light.
How well I remember what I heard someone say,
To enter God's Kingdom there is but one way;
Be ye naked and blind, penniless and poor;
These you must suffer 'fore entering that door.
The journey ahead is not yours to know,
But trust in your God wherever you go.
Then assurance from the darkness whispered tenderly,
"My Friend, be not afraid;
TAKE MY HAND;
FOLLOW ME."
With nervous attention a path I then trod;
A pathway in darkness to the altar of God.
With cable-tow and hoodwink, on bare bended knee,
A covenant was made there between God and me.
Charges and promises were made there that night.
Dispelling the darkness and bringing me light.
Mid lightening and thunder and Brethren on row!
Cast off the darkness! And cast off the tow!
In the company of men, a man you must be,
Moral in character, the whole world to see.
Trust in your God, promise daily anew
To be honest and upright in all things you do.
Each man is a brother in charity to share
With those suffering hunger, pain or despair.
The widow and orphan and brother in pain
Depend on your mercy their welfare to gain.
The secrets of Brethren keep only in mind.
To the ladies of Brethren be noble and kind.
Go now, my brother, your journey's begun
Your wages await you when your journey is done.
That journey I started, Oh, so long ago
And I've learned of those things I wanted to know.
I've learned of the secrets, not secret at all,
But hidden in knowledge within Masons' hall.
Childhood yields to manhood, manhood yields to age,
Ignorance yields to knowledge, knowledge yields to sage.
I've lived all my life the best that I could,
Knowing full well how a good Mason should.
I know of those times when I slipped and then fell.
What's right and what's wrong were not easy to tell.
But a trust in my God and a true brother's hand.
Helped raise me up and allowed me to stand.
I've strode down the old path, Masonically worn
By all Mason's raised for the Masons unborn.
But this tired old body, once young and so bold,
Now suffers the afflictions of having grown old.
The almond tree's flourished; the grinders are few.
The housekeepers tremble; desires fail too.
The locusts are a burden; fears are in the way.
The golden bowl is breaking, a little every day.
Mine eyes are again darkened, my sight again to fail;
I sense the Master's presence mid my family's silent wail.
I've laid aside my working tools, my day is nearly done.
For long I've played the game of life; the game's no longer fun.
Life's pathway ends before me. I see what's meant for me;
An acacia plant is growing where a beehive used to be.
The Ethereal Lodge has summoned from beyond the wailing wall
And I vowed that I must answer when summoned by a call.
Again I stand bewildered at the bottom of the stair
In nervous apprehension of what awaits me there.
Once again, and now alone, I stand without the door.
With faltering hand, I slowly knock as once I did before.
I pray again to hear those words,
whispered tenderly,
"My son, be not afraid.
TAKE MY HAND;
FOLLOW ME."
MASONIC MEMBERSHIP
CARD
- Author Unknown
I hold in my hand a little scrap of paper
2 1/2 x 3 1/2 inches in size.
It is of no intrinsic worth,
not a bond, not a check or receipt for valuables,
yet it is my most priceless possession.
It is my membership card in a Masonic Lodge.
It tells me that I have entered
into a spiritual kinship with my fellow Masons
to practice charity in word and deed;
to forgive and forget the faults of my brethren;
to hush the tongues of scandal and innuendo;
to care for the crippled, the hungry and the sick,
and to be fair and just to all mankind.
It tells me that no matter where
I may travel in the world,
I am welcome to visit a place where good fellowship prevails
among brothers and friends.
It tells me that my loved ones, my home,
and my household are under the protection
of every member of this great Fraternity,
who have sworn to defend and protect mine
as I have sworn to defend and protect theirs.
It tells me that should I ever be overtaken
by adversity or misfortune
through no fault of my own,
the hands of every Mason on the face of the earth
will be stretched forth to assist me in my necessities.
And finally, it tells me
that when my final exit from the stage of life has been made,
there will be gathered around my lifeless body,
friends and brothers who will recall to mind my virtues,
though they be but few,
and will forget my faults,
though they may be many.
It tells me that, and a great deal more,
this little card,
and makes me proud yet humble,
that I can possess this passport
into a society of friends and brothers
that are numbered in the millions.
SO MOTE IT BE !!
I SEE YOU'VE TRAVELED
SOME
- Author unknown
Wherever you may chance to be
Wherever you may roam,
Far away in foreign lands;
Or just at Home Sweet Home;
It always gives you pleasure,
it makes your heart strings hum
Just to hear the words of cheer,
"I see you've traveled some."
When you get a brother's greeting,
And he takes you by the hand,
It thrills you with a feeling
that you cannot understand,
You feel that bond of brotherhood
that tie that's sure to come
When you hear him say in a friendly way
"I see you've traveled some."
And if you are a stranger,
In strange lands all alone
If fate has left you stranded
Dead broke and far from home,
It thrills you--makes you numb,
When he says with a grip of fellowship,
"I see you've traveled some."
And when your final summons comes,
To take a last long trip,
Adorned with Lambskins Apron White
and gems of fellowship
The tiler at the Golden Gate,
With square and rule and plumb
Will size up your pin and say "Walk In",
"I see you've traveled some."
REMEMBER YOU'RE
A MASON
- Author unknown
When the pressures of recession
Make us concentrate on greed,
Take heed, a worthy Mason
Cares about another's needs;
Don't let pressures of the moment
Make your obligation sway,
Stop and help a fallen brother
Or another by the way;
What you give is like a bubble
Whenever you assist,
What it costs in time and trouble
Is, soon after, never missed;
Brother, bear that obligation
You accepted on your knee,
It's in direct relation
To your own security;
Never hesitate, my brother
Square your actions now and say,
"I'll remember I'm a Mason,
"And behave like that today;"
"With regard to human kindness
And the 'Golden Rule', I pray,
I'll remember I'm a Mason...
And behave like that today."
T is for the tools of the first three degrees
R for every rule as each brother agrees;
O is for the oath, in making all brothers true
W is for the work each one of us must do;
E is for the effort to answer every call
L stands for love...the most important thing of all;
These letters spell TROWEL, and as every brother knows;
It spreads love and friendship, wherever it goes.
OUR WORSHIPFUL
BROTHER, GEORGE WASHINGTON
- Author Unknown
Masonry has many claims
Including presidential names,
And, foremost, when all's said and done
Would have to be George Washington.
He led our troops in many fights
He helped compose our 'Bill of Rights,"
That all his people might be free
Enjoying life and liberty.
Americans still say today
"We're lucky that we live this way,"
For many, how surprised they'd be
To learn it sprang from Masonry.
For Washington, the Masons knew
Masonic principles were true,
And Masons know around this Earth
They came to be before his birth.
With other Masons, so conceived
He simply wrote what he believed,
Those thoughts and words that set us free
Are not unique in Masonry.
But not too many people know
The liberties they treasure so,
Were put into our Constitution
By Masons from the Revolution.
George Washington is praised by all
For answering his country's call,
For being president so wise,
For never telling any lies.
To each American, he's a part
Of what we treasure in our heart,
To love him not, would be like treason
Though each may have his own good reason.
But Masons o'er the years have cared
In knowing principles we've shared,
It's Washington we praise tonight
He truly shared Masonic Light.
A MASON'S WIFE
- Author Unknown
From active Masons, resolute,
Our wives and fam'lies we salute;
We surely know the price you pay,
Who sit alone while we're away;
No high degrees on you conferred,
In Lodge, your name is seldom heard;
You serve our cause though out of sight,
While sitting home alone tonight;
Masonic papers list our names,
Awards are given, fit to frame;
But yours is absent...you who strive,
To keep our fortitude alive;
You're part of every helpful deed,
On your encouragement we feed;
Without your blessings, how could we,
Continue acts of charity?
And so, this poem, we dedicate,
To every Master Mason's mate;
And offer our undying love,
Rewards await in Heaven above.
THE LEVEL AND THE
SQUARE
- By Dr. Robert Morris
We meet upon the Level and we part upon the Square
What priceless words of meaning these words Masonic are
Come, let us contemplate them, They are worthy of a thought;
In the very walls of Masonry the sentiment is wrought.
We meet upon the Level and from every station come
The rich man from his palace and the poor man from his home,
For the rich must leave their wealth and state outside the Mason's- door,
And the poor man finds his best respects upon the Checkered Floor.
We meet upon the Plumb, 'tis the order of our Guide
We walk upright in every way and lean to neither side;
The All-Seeing Eye that reads our hearts and doth bear us witness true,
That we still try to honor God and give each man his due.
We part upon the Square, for the world must have its due,
We mingle with the multitude, a faithful band and true,
But the influence of our gatherings in Masonry is green,
And we long upon the Level to renew the happy scene.
There is a World where all are equal, we are hurrying to it fast,
We shall meet upon the Level when the Gates of Death are past;
We shall stand before the Orient and our Master shall be there,
To try the blocks we offer with His own unerring Square.
We shall meet upon the Level there, but never thence depart,
There's a Mansion, 'tis all ready for each trusting, faithful heart,
There is a Mansion and a welcome and a multitude is there;
Who have met upon the Level and been tried upon the Square.
Let us meet upon the Level then while laboring patient here;
Let us meet and let us labor though the labor be severe,
Already in the western sky the signs bid us prepare,
To gather up our working tools and part upon the Square.
Hands round Ye faithful Brotherhood, the bright fraternal chain,
We part upon the Square below and meet in Heaven Again;
And the words of precious meaning, those words Masonic are,
"We Meet Upon The Level And We Part Upon The Square."
EMBLEMS OF THE
CRAFT
- By Dr. Robert Morris
You wear the Square! but have you got That thing the Square denotes? Is there within your inmost soul That principle which should control Your actions, words and thoughts? The Square of virtue,--is it there, Oh, you who wear the Mason's Square?You wear the Compass! Do you keep With that circle due That's circumscribed by law divineExcluding hatred, envy, sin,-- Including all that's true? The Moral Compass draws the line,And lets no evil passion in! You wear the Trowel! have you got That mortar, old and pure, Made on the recipe of God Divulged within His ancient Word,Indissoluble, sure? And do you spread, `twixt man and man,That precious mixture as you can? You wear the oriental G! Ah, Brother, have a care! He whose All-seeing Eye surveysYour inmost heart, with open gaze, Knows well what thoughts are there! Let no profane, irreverent word Go up t' insult th' avenging God! Dear Brother! if you will display These emblems of our Art, Let the great morals that they teachBe deeply graven, each for each, Upon an honest heart! Then they will tell, to God and man,Freemasonry's all perfect plan!
THE MOTHER
LODGE
- By Rudyard Kipling
We 'adn't good regalia, An' our Lodge was old an' bare, But we knew the Ancient Landmarks, An' we kep' 'em to a hair; An' lookin' on it backwards, It often strikes me thus,There ain't such things as infidels,Excep', per'aps, it's us.For monthly, after Labour,We'd all sit down and smoke(We dursn't give no banquets,Lest a Brother's caste were broke),An' man on man got talkin'Religion an' the rest,An' every man comparin'Of the God 'e knew the best.So man on man got talkin',An' not a Brother stirredTill mornin' waked the parrotsAn' that dam' brain-fever-bird;We'd say 'twas 'I hly curious,An we'd all ride 'ome to bed,With Mo'ammed, God, an' Shiva Changin' pickets in our 'ead.Full oft on Guv'ment serviceThis rovin' foot 'ath pressed.An' bore fraternal greetin'sTo the Lodges east an' west,Accordin' as commanded,From Kohat to Singapore,But I wish that I might see themIn my Mother-Lodge once more!I wish that I might see them,My Brethren black an' brown,With the trichies smellin' pleasantAn' the hog-darn1 passin' down;An' the old khansamah 2 snorin'On the bottle-khana 3 floor,Like a Master in good standingWith my Mother-Lodge once more.Outside 'Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Salaam!Inside-"Brother," an' it doesn't do no 'arm.We met upon the Level an' we parted on the Square,An' I was Junior Deacon in my Mother-Lodge out there
THE KNIFE AND FORK
DEGREE
- Author Unknown
I do not attend the meetings,for I've not the time to spare.But every time they have a feast ,you will surely find me there.I cannot help with the degrees,for I do not know the work.But I sure can applaud the speaker,and handle a knife and fork.I'm so rusty in the ritual,that it seems like Greek to me,but practice has made me perfect in the knife and fork degree.
LIGHT
- By William Mercer Wilson (First Grand Master of Canada)
"Let there be light." Jehovah said,And primal darkness heard and fled;Then, as the waters from the land;He parted with almighty hand;Light ridged the mountain chain with gold;Light through the vales in glory rolled;Light silvered ocean, lake and stream;Light made the pall-like vapors gleam;Light shone the forest vistas through;Light gave the sky it's burning blue;Light fell in life-awakening showers;On torpid leaves and sleeping flowers;And all the universe waxed brightRobed in it's makers effluence-light.There is a darkness of the mind;As thick as dark, as undefined;Ere God had said, " Let there be light."But as creations morning burst;On chaos, and the gloom dispersed;So does the " Day star from on high."Light to the darkened soul supply;As that which wrapped the world in night;So does God's grace, that ray divine;On the beseeching sinner shine;Dispelling from the soul despair;And shedding floods of glory there;Oh, when there's doubt and gloom within;Black fruits of un-repented sin;Search thou this book, and searching pray;So shall thy sin be washed away;So shall a beam illuminate thy night;From him who said, " Let there be light."
WHEN IS A MAN A
MASON?
- By Rev. Joseph Fort Newton
When he can look out over the rivers, the hills, and the far horizon with a profound sense of his own littleness in the vast scheme of things, and yet have faith, hope, and courage which is the root of every virtue. · When he knows that down in his heart every man is as noble, as vile, as divine, as diabolic, and as lonely as himself, and seeks to know, to forgive, and to love his fellow man. · When he knows how to sympathize with men in their sorrows, yea, even in their sins knowing that each man fights a hard fight against many odds. · When he has learned how to make friends and to keep them, and above all how to keep friends with himself. · When he loves flowers, can hunt birds without a gun, and feels the thrill of an old forgotten joy when he hears the laugh of a little child.· When he can be happy and high-minded amid the meaner drudgeries of life. · When star-crowned trees and the glint of sunlight on flowing waters, subdue him like the thought of one much loved and long dead.· When no voice of distress reaches his ears in vain, and no hand seeks his aid without response. · When he finds good in every faith that helps any man to lay hold of divine things and sees majestic meanings in life, whatever the name of that faith may be.· When he can look into a wayside puddle and see something beyond mud, and into the face of the most forlorn fellow mortal and see something beyond sin. · When he knows how to pray, how to love, how to hope. · When he has kept faith with himself, with his fellow man, and with his God; in his hand a sword for evil, in his heart a bit of a song -- glad to live, but not afraid to die! · Such a man has found the only real secret of Masonry, and the one which it is trying to give to all the world.
THE COMPASS ON THE
SQUARE
- by Brother Tom Lyle
You meet them every day.
they are not hard to find.
They search for every way
to make the rough refined.
Their sacrifice in red
is known to Liberty
as those who dare to tread
that road which makes man free.
From broom to crown I sing
of those who strive to bear,
(in heart as well as ring)
the compass on the square.
Their wise have always taught
that kindness is a seed
which roots itself in thought
and blossoms in the deed.
This garden Earth will green,
(the deserts made by mind),
when man fills every scene
with care for every kind.
From broom to crown I sing
of those who strive to bear,
(in heart as well as ring),
the compass on the square.
My moon reflects their sun,
but not enough to grow,
or harvest by the ton,
the seed I need to sow.
That shoots of love may start,
I seek the Greater Light,
and call upon my heart
to rise and glow sun bright.
O let my heart strive-on
and gather in the ways,
to serve my crop of dawn,
with joy from Beauty's rays.
From broom to crown I sing
of those who strive to bear,
(in heart as well as ring),
the compass on the square
MY
CORNERSTONE
- by Brother Tom Lyle
In the northeast corner of my heart,
I found a large, unfinished stone.
I thought it was a work of art,
(a gift of the First Mason),
something kept under lock and key
that glows with every good deed done,
and cheers all striving to be free.
But prayer and praise are not enough.
(Much work was left for me to do).
Up close it stands unsquare and rough,
while working tools remain like new.
There's no mistake. I clearly see.
Its wake up time, and "up" to me.
A BROTHER IN
FREEMASONRY
- by Brother Tom Lyle
A brother's heart beats warm with hope for all.
He does his part, no matter large or small.
A brother's mind must serve his fellow man.
His thoughts are kind. He helps all those he can.
A brother's Soul is bright to those that see
his loving goal is truth and charity.
Who dares to care will find the time to share.
I am one of the Boaz of the hood
I want to know if you would help me - if you would
I am alone - I am the son of a widow
Would you help me I want to know
I hear your cable-tow is long
But to help me you've got to be strong
If I seek shall I find
Or will I be just - left behind
If I knock - will I be heard
Or is your talk - just vain words
If I ask - will you give
Or shall I find somewhere else to live
I was mugged by three guys
It really bought tears to my eyes
How did you feel when you heard
That I was mugged for my word
I did not give it - I want you to know
That's why I'm pulling on your cable-tow
BROTHERS IN
ARMS
- by Brother Geoff Fox
We meet on the level and part on the square
Fellowship we bring, fellowship we share
From distant countries we belong
A brotherhood family, united and strong
Race, colour, nationality or creed
As Masonic brothers, we are freed
In one accord for thy great design
Support us, guide us, great architect devine
THE MEANING OF THE
WORD "BROTHER"
- By W.C. Armstrong, PM (Acalanes Fellowship Lodge #480,
Lafayette, CA)
Have you ever given much thought
about the word Brother ?
Have you ever truly sought
to understand it's meaning, other
than to use it as a general greeting
when attending your Lodge meeting?
When you take a fellow Mason's hand,
Do you really understand
the richness, the affection
with which the inflection
of the word should be spoken?
Or do you use it as just a token?
When you say the precious word, "Brother",
you're expressing a feeling that no other
word could possibly convey among men.
A feeling that is beyond the ken
of non-Masons who know not the fealty
of our unique Fraternity.
So, when you greet a Brother, anywhere,
let him know you really care.
Let the warmth of the greeting flow
through your hand so he will know,
that the greeting is truly none other
than straight from the heart of his Brother.
ONE LODGE
- By Brother Tommie Closson
Grandfather's lodge is gone now,
the charter pulled down from the wall.
The mortar has found some new purpose,
the Master's within a new hall.
To most it's a joyful occassion,
a merger of Brothers and friends.
But the number that made him a Mason
has scattered to history's winds.
What if my lodge should pass from existence?
I'll see with the passing of time,
If my son joins the order as I did,
Will he kiss the same bible as I?
With so much left to do for our neighbors,
and a trestle board full of to do's,
I must say that it's terribly petty
to argue the price of my dues.
Beside my lodge altar a flag flies,
of a place where a person can go,
to freely help Brothers and neighbors
in the length of his cable tow.
So Brothers, let's work for tomorrow,
and read from a braver man's tome,
May fraternity e'er be our focus,
No matter what lodge we call home.
Copyright @ 2002 -Jason A. Burkins