THE Free-Mason's Pocket Companion, SONG XLIX

Come follow, follow me, Ye jovial Masons free; Come follow all the rules That e'er were taught in schools, By Solomon, that Mason King, Who honor to the craft did bring.

He's justly call'd the wise, His fame doth reach the skies, He stood upon the square, And did the Temple rear; With true level, plumb and gage, He prov'd the wonder of the age.

The mighty Mason Lords Stood firmly to their words, They held it in esteem, For which they're justly deem'd: Why should not their example prove Our present craft to live in love?

The royal art, and word, Is kept upon record, With upright hearts and pure, While sun and moon endure; Not written but indented on The heart of every Free Mason.

And as for Hiram's art We need not to impart, The scripture plainly shews From whence his knowledge flows; His genius was so much refin'd His peer he has not left behind.

Then let not any one Forget the widow's son. But toast his memory In glasses charg'd full high, And when our proper time is come, Like brethren part, and so go home.