Songs, Song

Hail secret art! by heav'n design'd To cultivate and cheer the mind; Thy secrets are to all unknown, But Masons just and true alone, But Masons just and true alone.

Then let us all their praises sing, Fellows to peasant, prince, or king, Fellows to peasant, prince, or king.

From west to east we take our way, To meet the bright approaching day; That we to work may go in time, And up the sacred ladder climb. And up the, &c. Then let us all, &c.

Bright rays of glory did inspire, Our Master great who came from Tyre Still sacred history keeps his name, Who did the glorious Temple frame. Who did, &c. Then let us, &c.

The noble art divinely rear'd Uprightly built upon the square; Encompass'd by the powers divine, Shall stand until the end of time, Shall stand, &c. Then let us all, &c.

No human eye thy beauties see, but Masons truly just and free; Inspir'd by each heav'nly spark, Whilst Cowans labour in the dark. Then let us all, &c.