Last night I knelt
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
And 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.
I see you have traveled some
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 dumb, 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 Tyler at the Golden Gate, With Square and Level and Plumb
Will size up your pin and say "Walk In",
"I see you've traveled some."
Masonic Membership Card
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 !!
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.
MASONIC RINGS
Those men who help my dad each day,
They wear those mason rings.
A Square and Compass set in gold,
The praise of which I sing.
My dad, he hurt his back you know,
One cold and wintery day.
He slipped and fell upon the ice,
The insurance would not pay.
And since that time those rings I see,
On hands that help us much.
With mowing lawns and hauling trash,
Each day my heart they touch.
They even built a house for me,
Amid our backyard tree.
Where all the neighbor kids,
Would play with laughter full of glee.
My Mom she cried from happiness,
The time the Masons came.
To aid our family in distress,
Without a thought of gain.
And when I'm big, just like my dad,
Of this it must be told.
I want to wear a ring like his,
A Square and Compass gold.
Long years have passed since when
My dad was in that plaster cast.
And since I swore that Solemn Oath,
Which unites us to the last.
But more than that I'm proud to say,
I wear his Mason ring.
The one dad wore for many years,
Until his death this spring.
And one last time his comrades came,
To aid my weeping mother. They praised and bid a fond farewell,
To our fallen Brother.
And after which MY son did ask,
About their Aprons white.
And of the rings upon their hands.
Of gold so shiny bright.
With tearful eyes I said with pride,
They're men of spirit pure.
Those men who wear those Mason rings,
Of that you can be sure.
And before he went to bed that night,
The family he foretold.
Someday I'll wear a ring like dad's,
A Square and Compass gold.
The Work
by Brother Montford C. Holley
The gavel sounds
and all is still:
The Master speaks,
proclaims his will:
Each one obeys,
takes up his tools.
Inspects the plan,
consults the rules:
With trowel and level,
plumb and square,
Each stone is set
exactly where
The plan provides,
the drawing shows
And day by day
the Temple grows:
The porch is finished,
pillars placed;
The strands of net-work
interlaced;
The chambers furnished,
pavement laid,
The sacred vessels
all displayed:
The walls are standing
straight and true;
The roof is on,
the labor through:
The Master speaks,
The work is done:
The gavel sounds,
God calls us home.
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