Songs, Song

Hail Masonry, thou craft divine! Glory of earth, from heaven reveal'd! Which doth with jewels precious shine, From all but Masons eyes conceal'd: Thy praises due, who can rehearse, In nervous prose, or flowing verse?

All craftsmen true distingush'd are. Our code all other laws excel; And what's in knowledge choice and rare, Within our breasts securely dwell. The silent breast, the faithful heart, Preserve the secrets of the Art.

From scorching heat and piercing cold, From beasts, whose roars the forest rends; From the assaults of warriors bold, The Masons' art mankind defends. Be to this Art due honor paid, From which mankind receives such aid.

Ensigns of state that feed our pride, Distinctions troublesome and vain, By Masons true are laid aside, Art's free-born sons such toys disdain. Ennobled by the name they bear, Distinguish'd by the badge they wear.

Sweet fellowship, from envy sree, Friendly converse of brotherhood; The lodge's lasting cement be, Which has for ages firmly stood. A lodge thus built for ages past, Has lasted, and shall ever last.

Then let us celebrate the praise Of all who have enrich'd the Art, Let gratitude our voices raise, And each true brother bear a part. Let cheerful strains their same resound, And living Masons healths go round.