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THE TEMPLE -WHAT MAKES IT OF WORTH By Edgar Guest
THE TEMPLE By By Lawrence Greenleaf
THE TRUE MASON By F. G. Tisdall
We are Two Brothers By H. L. Haywood
WEARING THE EMBLEMS By Rob. Morris
What Came We Here To Do? By J. M. Jenkins
What Makes A Mason? By George H. Free
When Are You A Mason? Author Unknown
Where Has Freedom Gone? By Audie L. Murphy
THE TEMPLE -WHAT MAKES IT OF WORTH
Edgar Guest
You may delve down to rock for your foundation piers,
You may go with your steel to the sky
You may purchase the best of the thought of the years,
And the finest of workmanship buy.
You may line with the rarest of marble each hall,
And with gold you may tint it; but then
It is only a building if it, after all,
Isn't filled with the spirit of men.
You may put up a structure of brick and of stone,
Such as never was put up before;
Place there the costliest woods that are grown,
And carve every pillar and door.
You may fill it with splendors of quarry and mine,
With the glories of brush and of pen––
But it's only a building, though ever so fine,
If it hasn't the spirit of men.
You may build such structure that lightning can't harm,
Or one that an earthquake can't raze;
You may build it of granite, and boast that its charm
Shall last to the end of all days.
But you might as well never have builded at all,
Never cleared off the bog and the fen,
If, after it's finished, its sheltering wall
Doesn't stand for the spirit of men.
For it isn't the marble, nor is it the stone
Nor is it the columns of steel,
By which is the worth of an edifice known;
But it's something that's LIVING and REAL.
The temple made of wood and stone may crumble and decay,
But there's a viewless fabric which shall never fade away
Age after age the Masons strive to consummate the plan,
But still the work's unfinished which those ancient Three began;
None but immortal eyes may view, complete in all its parts
The Temple formed of LIVING STONES,––the structure made of hearts
´Neath every form of government, in every age and clime;
Amid the world's convulsions and the ghastly wrecks of time,––
While empires rise in splendor, and are conquered and o'er thrown,
And cities crumble into dust, their very sites unknown,––
Beneath the sunny smile of peace, the threatening frown of strife,
Freemasonry has stood unmoved, with age renewed her life.
She claims her votaries in all climes, for none are under ban
Who place implicit trust in God, and love their fellow man;
The heart that shares another's woe beats just as warm and true
Within the breast of Christian, or Mohammedan or Jew;
She levels all distinctions from the highest to the least,––
The King must yield obedience to the Peasant in the East.
What honored names on history's page, o'er whose brave deeds we pore
Have knelt before our sacred shrine and trod the checkered floor!
Kings, princes, statesmen, heroes, bards who squared their actions true,
Between the Pillars of the Porch now pass in long review;
O, Brothers, what a glorious thought for us to dwell upon––
The mystic tie that binds our hearts bound that of Washington!
Although our past achievements we with conscious pride review
As long as there's Rough Ashlars there is work for us to do
We still must shape the Living Stones with instruments of love
For that eternal Mansion in the Paradise above;
Toil as we've toiled in ages past to carry out the plan,––
`Tis this,––the Fatherhood of God, the Brotherhood of Man!
No Mason is he who is dead to the wailings
Of those whom misfortune has placed under ban
Who is harsh, unforgiving toward other men's failings,
Or does any act that debases the man.
He may seem a good brother in sight of his fellow,
Be high in his order and leam'd in its code;
But still his pretentions are truthless and shallow,
And he is no Mason in sight of his GOD.
But he's a true Mason whose soul ever rises
Above the small honors and glories of earth;
Who all the poor glitter of tinsel despises,
And loves to be measured alone by his worth.
With the Square and the Plumb-lead as emblems to guide him
From the line of strict duty he scorns to depart
Wlth the Rule and the Compass both ready before him,
He rears a true Temple of GOD in his heart.
His thoughts are as the snow when it falleth;
His zeal if enlisted on rectitude's side;
No fear of men's scoffing, his courage appalleth,
As he stands the oppressed and the friendless beside.
At the cry of misfortune his love is awakened;
Large minded, he succors with naught of display;
The widow, the orphan, the hungry and naked,
From his portals are never sent hungry away.
In precept though firm, he is soft as a mother,
Who seeks in affection her offspring to mold;
More apt by example to win a lost brother,
And waverers keep in the GOOD SHEPHERD'S FoLD.
Unsullied by contact with lusts that surround him,
Large hearted, he loves with God like regard;
He lives a rich blessing to all who are round him
And dies to receive the true Mason's reward.
We are Two Brothers
By H. L. Haywood
Give me your hand;
You are rich; I am poor;
Your wealth is your power, and by it you tread
A wide open path; where for me is a door
That is locked; and before it are worry and dread.
We are sundered, are we,
As two men can be
But we are two brothers in Freemasonry
So give me your hand.
Give me your hand;
You are great; I'm unknown;
You travel with a permanent fame;
I go on a way unlauded, alone,
With hardly a man to hear of my name:
We are sundered, are we,
As two men can be
But we are two brothers in Freemasonry
So give me your hand.
Give me your hand;
You are old; I am young;
The years in your heart their wisdom have sown;
But knowledge speaks not by my faltering tongue,
And small in the wisdom I claim as my own:
We are sundered, are we,
As two men can be
But we are two brothers in Freemasonry
So give me your hand.
WEARING THE EMBLEMS
Rob. Morris
You wear the Square! but have you got
That thing the Square denotes?
Is there within your inmost soul
That principle which should control
Your actions, words and thoughts?
The Square of virtue,––is it there,
Oh, you who wear the Mason's Square?
You wear the Compass! Do you keep
With that circle due
That's circumscribed by law divine
Excluding hatred, envy, sin,––
Including all that's true?
The Moral Compass draws the line,
And lets no evil passion in!
You wear the Trowel! have you got
That mortar, old and pure,
Made on the recipe of God
Divulged within His ancient Word,
Indissoluble, sure?
And do you spread, `twixt man and man,
That precious mixture as you can?
You wear the oriental G!
Ah, Brother, have a care!
He whose All-seeing Eye surveys
Your inmost heart, with open gaze,
Knows well what thoughts are there!
Let no profane, irreverent word
Go up t' insult th' avenging God!
Dear Brother! if you will display
These emblems of our Art,
Let the great morals that they teach
Be deeply graven, each for each,
Upon an honest heart!
Then they will tell, to God and man,
Freemasonry's all perfect plan!
What Came We Here To Do?
J. M. Jenkins
Foot to foot, no matter where,
Though far beyond my destined road,
If Brother needs a Brother's care,
On foot I'll go and share his load.
Knee to knee, no selfish prayer
Shall ever from my lips ascend,
For all who act upon the square,
At least, henceforth, my knee shall bend.
Breast to breast, and this I swear,
A Brother's secrets here shall sleep,
If told to me upon the square,
Save those I am not bound to keep.
Hand to back, Oh type of love!
Fit emblem to adorn the skies,
Be this our task below, above
To help poor falling mortals rise.
Cheek to cheek, or mouth to ear,
"We all like sheep have gone astray,"
May we good counsel give and bear,
'Til each shall find the better way.
What Makes A Mason?
George H. Free
What makes you a Mason, O brother of mine?
It isn't the dueguard, nor is it the sign,
It isn't the jewel which hangs on your breast,
It isn't the apron in which you are dressed,
It isn't the step, nor the token, nor grip,
Nor lectures that fluently flow from the lip,
Nor yet the possession of that mystic word,
On five points of fellowship duly conferred.
Though these are essential, desirable, fine,
They don't make a Mason, O brother of mine.
That you to your sworn obligation are true-
"Tis, that, brother mine, makes a Mason of you.
Secure in your heart you must safeguard your trust,
With lodge and with brother be honest and just,
Assist the deserving who cry in their need,
Be chaste in thought, in your word and deed,
Support him who falters, with hope banish fear,
And whisper advice in an erring one's ear.
Then will the Great Lights on your path brightly shine,
And you'll be a Mason, O brother of mine.
Your use of life's hours by the gauge you must try,
The gavel to vices with courage apply;
Your walk must be upright, as shown by the plumb,
On the level, to bourn whence no travelers come;
The book of your faith be the rule and the guide,
The compass your passions shut safely inside;
The stone which the Architect placed in your care
Must pass the strict test of His unerring square,
And then you will meet with approval divine,
And you'll be a Mason, O brother of mine.
Where Has Freedom Gone?
Audie L. Murphy
Dusty old helmet, rusty old gun, they sit in the corner and wait.
Two souvenirs of the Second World War that have withstood the time and the hate.
Many times I've wanted to ask them, and now that we're here all alone,
Relics all three of a long ago war. "Where has freedom gone?"
Mute witness to a time of much trouble, where kill or be killed was the law.
"Were these implements used with high honor? What was the glory they saw?"
Freedom flies in your heart like an eagle, let it soar with the high winds above,
Among the spirits of soldiers now sleeping, guard it with care and with love.
I salute my old friends in the corner, I agree with all they have said,
And if the moment of truth comes tomorrow, I'll be free, or I'll be dead.
When Are You A Mason?
Wilbur D. Nesbit
When are you a Mason?
When you go to Lodge
If there is a meeting
That you cannot dodge?
When you wear your button?
When still up you climb?
The way to be a Mason
Is to be one all the time.
When are you a Mason?
When there's fun and feast,
Or when you can bolster
With a word at least
Some poor devil's spirits!
The real help you give.
The way to be a Mason
Is to be one as you live.
When are you a Mason?
When some gossip spreads
Of another brother,
Are you the one who heads
Off the hurtful babble,
And helps make things right?
The way to be a Mason
Is to be one day and night.
When are you a Mason?
Brother, you and I
Can make great the Order
As the days go by,
Through each word and action,
Through each song and smile:
The way to be a Mason
Is to be one all the while!
Who is a Mason? Not the clod
Whose thoughts ne'er rise above the sod;
Whose best ambition is to know
The joys that from the senses grow.
Who is a Mason? Not the slave
To passions that will dig his grave;
Nor yet the miser, hard and cold
Who shuts his heart to all but gold.
Who is a Mason? Not the hound
Who boldly treads on holy ground;
At woman's honor dares to sneer,
At Truth Divine to mock and jeer.
A Mason worthy of the name
Can never stoop to guilt or shame;
His honor is his dearest care––
Fidelity his jewel rare.
