the model mason
by
Robert Morris
There's a fine old Mason in the land, he's
genial, wise and true, His list of brothers comprehends, hear brothers,
me and you; So warm his heart the snow blast fails to chill his
generous blood, And his hand is like a giant's when outstretched to man
or God; -- Reproach nor blame, nor any shame, has checked his course
or dimmed his fame -- All honor to his name!
This fine old Mason
is but one of a large family: In every lodge you'll find his kin,
you'll find them two or three; You'll know them when you see them, for
they have their father's face, A generous knack of speaking truth and
doing good always; -- Reproach nor blame, nor any shame, has checked
their course or dimmed their fame -- Freemason is their
name!
Ah, many an orphan smiles upon the kindred as they
pass; And many a widow's prayers confess the sympathizing grace; The
Father of this Brotherhood himself is joyed to see; Their works --
they're numbered all in Heaven, those deeds of charity! Reproach nor
blame, nor any shame, there check their course or dim their fame
-- All honor to their name!
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