Songs, Song

Ye dull stupid mortals, give o'er your conjectures, Since free masons secrets you ne'er can obtain; The bible and compass are our directors, And shall be as long as this world doth remain. Here friendship inviting, here freedom delighting. Our moments in innocent mirth we employ:

Come, see, Masons' felicity, Working and singing with hearts full of joy.

No other society that you can mention, Which has been, is now, or hereafter shall be, However so laudable is its intention, It cannot compare with divine Masonry. No envy, no quarrels, can here blast our laurels, No passion our pleasures can ever annoy; Come, see, &c.

To aid one another we always are ready, Our rights and our secrets we carefully guard; The lodge to support, we like pillars are steady, No Babal confusion our work can retard. Ye mortals come hither, assemble together, And taste of those pleasures which never can cloy, Come, see, &c.

We are to the Master for ever obedient, Whenever he calls, to the Lodge we repair; Experience has taught us, that 'tis most expedient To live within compass, and act on the square, Let mutual agreement, be Free-masons' cement, Until the whole Universe time shall destroy; Come, see, &c.