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masonic odes
CHAPTER XVI
the masonic manual
robert macoy
MUSIC - "Sweet home."
Farewell, till again we shall welcome the time
Which brings us once
more to our fame-cherished shrine;
And though from each other we
distant may roam,
Again may all meet in this our dear lov'd
home
Home, home - sweet, sweet home.
May every dear brother find joy
and peace at home.
And when our last parting on earth shall draw nigh,
And we shall be
called to the Grand Lodge on high,
May each be prepared when the
summons shall come,
To meet the Grand Master in Heaven our
home
Home, home-sweet, sweet home.
May every dear brother find
Heaven a home.
MUSIC - "Rule Britannia."
When earth's foundation first was laid,
By the Almighty Artist's
hand;
'Twas then our perfect, our perfect laws were
made,
Established by his strict command.
Hail! mysterious, Hail, glorious Masonry!
That makes us ever great
and free
In vain mankind for shelter sought,
In vain from place to place did
roam,
Until from heaven, from heaven he was taught
To plan, to
build, to fix his home.
Illustrious hence we date our Art,
And now in beauteous piles
appear,
We shall to endless, to endless time impart,
How worthy and
how great we are.
Nor we less fam'd for every tie,
By which the human thought is
bound;
Love, truth and friendship, and friendship
socially,
Join all our hearts and hands around.
Our actions still by Virtue blest,
And to our precepts ever
true,
The world admiring, admiring shall request
To learn, and our
bright paths pursue.
Music - "God save the King."
Hail, Masonry divine!
Glory of ages, shine!
Long may'st thou
reign:
Where'er thy Lodges stand,
May they have great
conmmand
And always grace the land.
Thou art
divine!
Great fabrics still arise,
And grace the azure skies;
Great are
thy schemes;
Thy noble orders are
Matchless, beyond compare;
No
art with thee can share.
Thou art divine!
Hiram, the architect,
Did all the Craft direct
How they should
build.
Sol'mon, great Israel's king,+
Did mighty blessings
bring,+
And left us room to sing,+
Hail, royal art!+
(+ = Chorus 3 times)
MUSIC - Old Hundred, L. M.
Great Architect of Heaven and earth,
To whom all nature owes its
birth;
Thou spake! and vast creation stood.
Surveyed the work -
pronounced it good.
Lord, can'st thou deign to own and bless
This humble dome - this
sacred place?
Oh! let thy Spirit's presence shine
Within these walls
- this house of thine
'T was reared in honor of thy name.
Here kindle, Lord, the sacred
flame;
Oh! make it burn in every heart,
And never from this place
depart.
Here may our precepts' powerful truth,
Instruct the aged and the
youth;
Nor let illiberal party zeal,
E'er mar the union, Masons
feel.
Let life divine here seize the dead;
Here may the starving poor he
fed;
Here may the mourner comfort find;
Here love prevail for all
mankind.
Lord, here the wants of all supply,
And fit our souls to dwell on
high;
From service in this humble place,
Raise us to praise thee
face to face.
AIR - Creation.
Deep in the quarries of the stone,
Amid vast heaps of other
rock,
In darkness hid, to art unknown,
We found this rude and
shapeless block.
Now shaped by art, its roughness gone,
And fit-this
noble work to grace;
And lay it here, a corner stone.
Chosen and
sure, in proper place
Within this stone there lies conceal'd
What future ages may
disclose,
The sacred truths to us reveal'd,
By Him who fell by
ruthless foes.
On Him, this corner stone we build,
To Him, this
edifice erect;
And still, until this work's fulfill'd,
May Heaven
the workman's ways direct.
MUSIC - "Safely through another week."
Joy! the sacred Law is found,
Now the Temple stands
complete;
Gladly let us gather round,
Where the Pontiff holds his
seat
Now he spreads the volume wide,
Opening forth its leaves to
day,
And the monarch by his side,
Gazes on the bright display.
Joy! the secret vault is found;
Full the sunbeam falls
within,
Pointing darkly under ground.
To the treasure we would
win.
They have brought it forth to light,
And again it cheers the
earth;
All its leaves art purely bright,
Shining in their newest
worth
This shall be the sacred mark,
Which shall guide us to the
skies,
Bearing, like a holy ark,
All the hearts who love to
rise,
This shall be the corner stone
Which the builders threw
away,
But was found the only one
Fitted for the arch's stay.
MUSIC - Shirland.
Companions we have met,
And passed a peaceful hour;
These moments
may we ne'er forget,
But hope and pray for more.
Thro' this and every night,
Lordl, grant us - sweet repose;
Now
aid us by thy holy light,
This Ioyal Arch to close.
As, when the weary trav'ler gains
The height of some commanding
hill,
His heart revives, if o'er the plains
He sees his home, though
distant still,
So, when the Christian pilgrim views
By faith his mansion in the
skies,
The sight his fainting strength renews,
And wings his speed
to reach the prize.
The hope of heaven his spirit cheers;
No more he grieves for sorrows
past;
Nor any future conflict fears,
So he may safe arrive at
last.
O Lord, on thee our hopes we stay,
To lead us on to thine
abode;
Assur'd thy love will far o'erpay
The hardest labors of the
road
Words by BURNS. AIR - Bonny
Doon.
ADIEU, a heart warm, fond adieu,
Ye brothers of our mystic
tie;
Ye favored and enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social
joy;
Though I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing fortune's slipp'ry
ba';
With melting heart and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still when
far awa'
Oft have I met your social band,
To spend a cheerful festive
night,
Oft honor'd with supreme command,
Presiding o'er the sons of
light:
And by that hieroglyphic bright,
Which none but craftsmen ever
saw,
Strong mem'ry on my heart shall write,
Those happy scenes when
far awa'.
May freedom, harmony and love,
Cement you in the grand
design,
Beneath th' Omniscient Eye above,
The glorious Architect
divine:
That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still guided by the
plummet's law,
'Till order bright completely shine,
Shall be my
prayer when far awa'.
And you, farewell, whose merits claim
Justly that highest badge to
wear,
May heaven bless your noble name,
To Masonry and friendship
dear:
My last request permit me then,
When yearly you're assembled
a,
One round, I ask it with a tear,
To him, your friend that's far
awa'.
And you, kind-hearted sisters, fair,
I sing farewell to all your
charms -
Th' impression of your pleasing air
With rapture oft my
bosom warms,
Alas! the social winter's night
No more returns while
breath I draw
'Till sisters, brothers, all unite,
In that Grand
Lodge that's far
awa'.
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