THE Free-Mason's Pocket Companion, SONG LXII

What joys do the Crast on each Mason bestow (Such rapturous pleasures as Cowans ne'er know) All equally share the delightful repast, Which time cannot change but eternal will last.

Hark away! Hark away! Hark away is the word! To the Lodge let's repair; Where echo! Where echo! Where harmony echoes, And banishes care.

Behold as the Sun in the East doth arise, Our Master the Workmen and hirelings employ; The West and the South their assistance impart, T' embellish the Fabric and strergthen the ART.

With Level and Rule we our business prepare, We work by the Compass, and act on the Square; No murmurs are heard and no discords are known, Tranquility reigns, and Ambition has flown.

Let the World make a scoff, we their sneering despise, Since they know not how much we Free Masonry prize; In brotherly love let the time social pass, And mirth and festivity garnish each glass.

Then charge my dear Brethren, a bumper all round, To the brim fill each glass, let no day light be found; Here's a health to all Masons who honour the name, By walking upright, and observing the same.

Hark away! Hark away! Hark away is the word! Let us sing and rejoice; Whilst echo! sweet echo! whilst echo of Masonry Sounds from each voice!