BALLAD. (The Sun's a free-mason, he works all…)

The Sun's a free-mason, he works all the day, Village, city, and town to adorn, Then from labour at rest, At his lodge in the west, Takes with good brother Neptune a glass on his way, Thence ripe for the fair, He flies from all care, To Dame Thetis charms, Till rous'd from her arms By the morn. So do we, our labour done, First the glass, And then the lass, And then Sweet slumbers give fresh force To run our course, Thus with the rising sun.

The course of the sun all our mysteries defines: First masonry rose in the east, Then, to no point confin'd, His rays cheer mankind; Besides, who'll deny that he well knows the signs? The Grand Master he Then of masons shall be, Nor shall aught the craft harm, Till to shine and to warm He has ceas'd.

Then like him, our labour done, &c.