Make your own free website on Tripod.com

 

Home ] Table of Contents ] Contact Information ] GW 820 Calendar ] ACGL Lodges Calendar ] Feedback ]

George Washington Lodge No. 820
Ancient Free & Accepted Masons

under the American Canadian Grand Lodge  United Grand Lodges of Germany

Zhd. Gashthaus Schleppi
Saarbrucker 80
66901 Schonenberg-Kubelberg

Home ] Up ] History ] Past Masters ] What is Freemasonry ] Education ] Links ] Magazines and Articles Online ] Lodge Officers ] Lodge Information ] Trestleboard ] Search Sites ] What is New ]

 

Up ] Remember ] STB - Why I Became ] Short Sentences Why ] To The Mason's Lady ] How Do I Join ] When Is A Man A Mason ] [ Masonic Poetry ]


MASONIC POETRY

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Last Night I Knelt Where Hiram Knelt
The Lamb Skin
What Makes a Mason
The Letter G
The Level and The Square
The Door
My Ballot
I am Freemasonry
A Freemason's Prayer
A Real District Deputy
Ten Master Masons
The Master's Apron
A Masonic Song
I stood before the Master
My Cornerstone
Oh That Rough Ashlar
The Compass On The Square
The Old Masters Wages
Tribute to a Mason
The Trowel
Let's Go to Lodge Tonight


Last Night I Knelt Where Hiram Knelt

Last night I knelt where Hiram knelt
And took an Obligation,
And now I'm closer to my God
For I'm a Master Mason.

And as I feel his friendly grip
It fills my heart with pride.
I know that while I'm On The Square
He is by my side.

His footsteps on my errand go
If I should such require,
His prayers will plead on my behalf
If I should so desire.

My words are safe within his breast
As though within my own,
His hand forever at my back
To help me safely home.

Good counsel whispers in my ear
And warns of any danger,
By Square and Compass, 'tis Brother now!
Who once would call me stranger.

I might have lived a moral life
And risen to distinction
Without my Brother's helping hand
And the fellowship of Master Masons.

But God who knows how hard it is
To resist life's temptations
Knows why I knelt where Hiram knelt
And took that Obligation.

Author Unknown

back to top


The Lamb Skin

It is not ornamental, the cost is not great,
There are other things far more useful , yet truly I state,
Tho of all my possessions, there's none can compare,
With that white leathern apron, which all Masons wear.

As a young lad I wondered just what it all meant,
When Dad hustled around, and so much time was spent,
On shaving and dressing and looking just right,
Until Mother would say:" it's the Mason's tonight."

And some winter nights she said:" what makes you go,
Way up there tonight thru the sleet and the snow,
You see the same things every month of the year."
Then Dad would reply:" yes, I know, my dear.

Forty years I have seen the same things , it is true.
And although they are old, they always seem new,
For the hands that I clasp, and the friends that I greet,
Seem a little bit closer each time that we meet."

Years later I stood at that very same door,
With good men and true who had entered before,
I knelt at the altar, and there I was taught
That virtue and honor can never be bought.

That the spotless white lambskin all Masons revere,
If worthily worn grows more precious each year,
That service to others brings blessings untold,
That man may be poor tho surrounded by gold.

I learned that true brotherhood flourishes there,
That enmities fade' neath the compass and square,
That wealth and position are thrust aside,
As there on the level men meet and abide.

So, Honor the lambskin , may it always remain
Forever unblemished, and free from all stain,
And when we are called to the Great Father's love,
May we all take place in that Lodge up above.

Author unknown

back to top


What Makes a Mason

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.

George H. Free (MM)

back to top


The Letter "G"

He entered the Lodge, and filled each Chair,
He was sent to the East, and presided there,
He could give the lectures of each degree
But, then he fell down on the Letter "G."

Yes, he said each head must "In honor bow,"
But, out of the Lodge, he forgot, somehow;
And from his careless and prayerless lip,
The name of "Jehovah" would often slip.

He recited the Lecture, with solemn tone,
When the Letter "G" to the Lodge was shown,
But, we knew at once why the world did scoff,
When it heard this man with his apron off.

The Fellowcraft too, when the Lodge was through,
Listened as you and I would do;
And the work, though finely exemplified,
Was spoiled by the talk in the room outside.

For no one did as the Master said,
Not a humble bow from a single head;
So the Fellowcraft thought, as he said goodnight,
"I'll just talk as before, it will be all right."

If Masonry does what we claim for it,
We should guard our tongues, lest we forget
To use that Great High name with care,
While at work, at play, or engaged in prayer.

For the world is watching both you and me,
To see if we honor the Letter "G";
And our lives and teachings they compare.
To see if they're Plumb, and on the Square.

by Harry Carr, P.A.G.D.C., P.M., Secretary of the Quatuor Coronati Lodge

back to top


The Level and The Square

We meet upon the level and we part upon the square
These words have precious meaning and are practiced everywhere
Come let us contemplate them, they are worthy of a thought
From the ancient times of Masonry these symbols have been taught
We meet upon the level, every country, sect and creed
The rich man from his mansion, the poor man from the field
For wealth is not considered within our outer door
And we all meet on the level upon the checkered floor.

We act upon the Plumb the Junior Warden states
We walk upright throughout our lives, we seek the pearly gates
The All-seeing Eye that reads our hearts doth bear us witness true
That we shall try to honor God and give each man his due
We part upon the square as all good Masons do
We mingle with the multitude a faithful band and true
So the brotherhood of Masonry from every corner come
To meet upon the level and act upon the plumb.

There's a world where all are equal we're coming to it fast
We shall meet upon the level there when the days on earth are past
We shall stand before the altar and our Master will be there
To try the blocks we offer with his own unerring square
We shall meet upon the level there but never thence depart
There's a Mansion---Ďtis all ready for each trusting, faithful heart
There's a Mansion and a welcome and a multitude is there
Who have met upon the level and been tried upon the square.

Let us meet upon the level then while these earthly ties we share
And just hope we're there to answer when the roll is called up there
As we travel through our lifespan time aids us prepare
To gather up our working tools and part upon the square
So remember all our teachings, that bright fraternal chain
We part upon the square below to meet in heaven again
These words have precious meaning and are practiced everywhere
We meet upon the level and we part upon the square.

back to top


The Door

I thought to myself, as my hands touched the door,
What in the world am I doing this for?
Dressed as I never expected to be,
Were they going to play some fools game with me?

I stood there a moment, when I heard the command,
You must knock on the door with your own hand.
The door opened slightly, I thought to go in,
But to my surprise, there were questions again.

I knew not the answers, but luck was with me,
My guide seemed to know what the answers should be!
When the door finally opened, and I was led in,
I said to myself..........It's about to begin!

When they start to laugh, I'll hold my head high,
I'll not step back, no matter what the outcry!
As I walked on in, I could feel their eyes,
But I heard no laughter......I heard no outcries.

They seemed to be following some sort of a skit,
I wasn't quite sure how all of it fit.
My apprehensions were eased, my fears were no more,
It was not as I imagined from without the door.

As I was soon to discover, it was a most solemn event,
Instruction and guidance were their only intent.
When it was all over I knew one thing for sure,
I would never regret..... that first knock on the door.

Author Brother Victor E. Moore

back to top


My Ballot

I stand at the same sacred altar
Where, prompted by brotherly love,
I vowed solemn vows without falter
Witnessed by Him from above.
As once I knelt there in rev'rence
I stand rev'rently there ---
My thoughts have suffered no sev'rence,
As I vowed---so I'll vote---on the square
If through friendship I favor the seeker
But think him unworthy at heart ---
Lest my Lodge by my ballot grow weaker,
Such favor from justice must part.
At the altar where light flooded o'er me,
I'll betray not the trust that I bear,
I'll shame not the emblems before me,
But I'll cast my vote on the square.
Or should he be not to my liking,
But merit by action the trust;
My soul I'll not perjure by striking
A blow when such a blow be unjust ---
But I'll welcome his step 'cross the border,
I'll honor the trust that I bear,
I'll vote for the good of the order
By casting my vote on the square.
Time flies --- and ere long my petition
Will be filed in the Grand Lodge above.
I'll be glad then I tempered such mission
With justice and brotherly love.
"With the measure ye mete" has been spoken
By the Worshipful Master up there ---
No promise e're made has He broken
And He'll handle my case on the square.

Author: Thomas Q. Ellis, Grand Master 1925, Mississippi

back to top


I am Freemasonry

I was born in antiquity, in the ancient days when men first dreamed of God.
I have been tried through the ages, and found true.
The crossroads of the world bear the imprint of my feet, and the cathedrals of all nations mark the skill of my hands.
I strive for beauty and for symmetry.

In my heart is wisdom and strength and courage for those who ask.
Upon my alters is the Book of Holy Writ, and my prayers are to the One Omnipotent God, my sons work and pray together, without rank or discord, in the public mart and in the inner chamber.
By signs and symbols I teach the lessons of life and of death and the relationship of man with God and of man with man.
My arms are widespread to receive those of lawful age and good report who seek me of their own free will.
I accept them and teach them to use my tools in the building of men, and thereafter, find direction in their own quest for perfection so much desired and so difficult to attain.

I lift up the fallen and shelter the sick. I hark to the orphans' cry, the widows tears, the pain of the old and destitute.
I am not church, nor party, nor school, yet my sons bear a full share of responsibility to God, to country, to neighbor and themselves.
They are freemen, tenacious of their liberties and alert to lurking danger.

At the end I commit them as each one undertakes the journey beyond the vale into the glory of everlasting life.
I ponder the sand within the glass and think how small is a single life in the eternal universe.
Always have I taught immortaility, and even as I raise men from darkness into light, I am a way of life.

I Am Freemasonry.
"The End" but actually, just the beginning.

by - Ray V. Denslow

back to top


A Freemason's Prayer

Thou most Glorious and Holy Lord, God of the Universe,
    We are humbly here assembled to extol your grace,  with verse.
Oh, Great Architect, Creator of this Earth with all its good,
    It is in Thy Name, we pledge our lives to Peace and Brotherhood..

  By upholding all the principles Freemasonry describes,
    We Freemasons try to live the way our Ancient Craft prescribes.
For the virtues we aspire to are good, benign and just,
    Such as Truth and Love and Justice, with Morality and Trust

  Supreme Lord of all the Universe, hear our impassioned plea,
    May we all l.ive by the tenets which thou gave Freemasonry.
And may all of Man's endeavors with his fellow man compare
    With the noble and sublime ways of the Compass and the Square.

 back to top


A Real District Deputy

Each time it's different and each time the same
and has been from the whenever start
For centuries, I guess

 And yet I'm the guardian by default
Of assignment, make sure it's done right
and it must have been the same
For centuries, I guess.

back to top


Ten Master Masons

Ten Master Masons, happy, doing fine;
One listened to a rumor, then there were nine.

Nine Master Masons, faithful, never late;
One didn't like the "Master", then there were eight.

Eight Master Masons, on their way to heaven;
One joined to many clubs, then there were seven.

Seven Master Masons, life dealt some hard licks;
One grew discouraged, then there were six.

Six Master Masons, all very much alive;
One lost his interest, then there were five.

Five Master Masons, wishing there were more;
Got into a great dispute, then there were four.

Four Master Masons, busy as could be;
One didn't like the programs, then there were three.

Three Master Masons, was one of them you?
One grew tired of all the work, then there were two.

Two Master Masons with so much to be done;
One said "What's the use", then there was one.

One Master Mason, found a brother - true!
Brought him to the Lodge, then there were two.

Two Master Masons didn't find work a bore;
Each brought another, then there were four.

Four Master Masons saved their Lodges fate;
By showing others kindness, then there were eight.

Eight Master Masons, loving their Lodges bright sheen;
Talked so much about it, they soon counted sixteen.

Sixteen Master Masons, to their obligations true;
Were pleased when their number went to thirty-two.

So we can't put our troubles at the Lodges door;
It's our fault for harming the Lodge we adore.

Don't fuss about the programs or the "Master" in the East;
Keep your obligation by serving even the very least.

back to top


The Master's Apron

There's many a badge that's very grand;
With ribbon, lace and tape on;
Let kings and princes wear them all,
Give me the Master's apron!

The honest craftsman's apron,
The jolly Freemason's apron,
Be he at home or roam afar,
Before his touch fall bolt and bar,
The gates of fortune fly ajar,
When he but wears the apron!

For wealth and honor, pride and power
are crumbling stones to base on;
Eternity should rule the hour,
and every worthy Mason!
Each Free Accepted Mason,
Each Ancient Crafted Mason.

Then Brethren, let a wholesome song
Arouse your friendly ranks along.
Good wives and children blithely sing
To the ancient badge with the apron string
That is worn by the Master Masons!

back to top


A Masonic Song

It happened on a winter night
And early in the season
Some body said my bonny lad
Was gone to be a Mason
Fal de ral etc.

I cryed and wailed but nought availed
He put a forward face on
And did avow that he was now
A free accepted Mason.

Still doubting if the fact was true
He gave me demonstration
For out he drew before my view
The Jewels of a Mason.

The Jewels all baith great and small
I viewed with admiration
When he set his siege and drew his gaze
I wondered at my mason.

His compass stride he laid it wide
I thought I guessed the reason
But his mallet shaft it put me daft
I longed to be a Mason.

Good plumets strong he downward hung
A noble jolly brace on
And off a slant his broacher sent
And drove it like a mason.

But the tempered steel began to fail
Too soft for the occasion
It melted plain he drove so keen
My galant noble Mason.

So pleased was I to see him ply
The tools of his vocation
I beg'd for once he wuld dispense
And make a Maid a mason.

Then round and round in mystic ground
He took the middle station'
And with halting pace he reached the place
Where I was made a mason.

Then more and more the light did pour
With bright Illumination
But when the grip he did me slip
I gloried in my mason.

What farther past is here lock fast
I'm under obligation
But fill to him up to the brim
Can make a maid a mason

Author: Robert Burns

back to top


I stood before

The Master's Chair
A Brother craftsman
Led me there

A trowel now in
The Master's hand
With which to spread
Cement and sand

The words I had
Been taught to use
And warned that I
Should not abuse

That friendship was
The greatest part
And faith must come
From my own heart

An apron pure
And spotless white
A trust to keep
With all my might

And for these things
I kneel in prayer
God help me walk
Both straight and square

back to top


My Cornerstone

In the northeast corner of my heart,
I found a large, unfinished stone.
I thought it was a work of art,
(a gift of the First Mason), 

Something kept under lock and key
that glows with every good deed done,
and cheers all striving to be free.
But prayer and praise are not enough. 


(Much work was left for me to do).
Up close it stands unsquare and rough,
while working tools remain like new.
There's no mistake. I clearly see.
Its wake up time, and "up" to me.

back to top


Oh That Rough Ashlar

 

If I should win the lottery,
(and that's the way it otta-be),
then I'd give up my never-be
and set myself forever free.

If I should find rare coinery,
(and that's the way it otta-be),
then I'd give up my couldn't-be,
and set myself forever free.

If I should gain fine jewelry,
(and that's the way it otta-be),
then I'd give up my shouldn't-be
and set myself forever free.

Never-be, couldn't-be, shouldn't-be,
how did they gain their mastery
to cloud my self-discovery?
(Is that the way it otta-be?)

If I should win my liberty,
(and that's the way it otta-be),
then I'd give up my slavery,
and set myself forever free.

But what-if my "IF" should never-be?
Some rather "When" than "IF" you see,
for "When" is like a future tree,
and "IF" is just a doubt-in-me.

A real good "WHEN" is gold to me.
A bad "WHEN" is a grave to-be.
Now good "WHAT-IFS" can set me free,
but bad "WHAT-IFS' can bury me.

So how then should it otta-be?
It seems God left it up to me
to search each possibility
within my heart's own treasury.

 back to top


The Compass On The Square

You meet them every day.
they are not hard to find.
They search for every way
to make the rough refined.

Their sacrifice in red
is known to Liberty
as those who dare to tread
that road which makes man free.

From broom to crown I sing
of those who strive to bear,
(in heart as well as ring)
the compass on the square. 

Their wise have always taught
that kindness is a seed
which roots itself in thought
and blossoms in the deed. 

This garden Earth will green,
(the deserts made by mind),
when man fills every scene
with care for every kind. 

From broom to crown I sing
of those who strive to bear,
(in heart as well as ring),
the compass on the square. 

My moon reflects their sun,
but not enough to grow,
or harvest by the ton,
the seed I need to sow. 

That shoots of love may start,
I seek the Greater Light,
and call upon my heart
to rise and glow sun bright. 

O let my heart strive-on
and gather in the ways,
to serve my crop of dawn,
with joy from Beauty's rays. 

From broom to crown I sing
of those who strive to bear,
(in heart as well as ring),
the compass on the square

back to top


The Old Masters Wages

I meet a dear old man today
Who wore a Masonic pin,
It was old and faded like the man
Its edges were worn quite thin

I approached the park bench where he sat
To give the old brother his do
I said, "I see youíve traveled east"
He said, "I have, have you?"

I said, I have and in my day
Before the all seeing sun
I played in the rubble with Jubala
Jubilo, and Jubalum.

He shouted, donít laugh at the work my boy
Itís good and it's sweet and it's true
And if youíve traveled as you said
You should give these things a due.

The word, the sign, the token, 

The sweet Masonic prayer,
The vow that all have taken
Who have climbed the inner stair.

The wages of a Mason
are never paid in gold 

but the gain comes from contentment
When youíre weak and growing old. 

You see Iíve carried my obligations
For almost fifty years 

It has helped me through the hardships
and the failures full of tears. 

Iím now losing my mind and my body
Death is near but I donít despair 

Iíve lived my life upon the level
And Iím die upon the square. 

Sometimes the greatest lessons
Are those that are learned anew 

And the old man in the park today
Has changed my point of view. 

To all Masonic brothers
The only secret is to care
May you live upon the level.
May you part upon the square.

back to top


Tribute to a Mason

 ďWhy wear the apron?Ē the young mason said,
As the mourners so silently bowed every head. 

The prayer was perfection,-ceremony profound,
Not one single person uttered a sound.
The minister spoke, all telling with love,
That our brother had passed to the lodge up above.
That his life here below was not easy for sure
And many the sorrow heíd had to endure. 

This man dedicated to helping his race,
Unconscious of background or color of face.
With a life dedicated to sharing of time
While supporting a friend with a comforting rhyme.
Who brought out in others the ďbestĒ of the best,
Without criticizing, or putting to test.
That the life he had lived, as a mason and friend,
Was a lifetime of sharing, right up to the end.
 
The lambskin was placed with all loving care 

A release from the labour on earth he did bear
The evergreen sprig shows the faith we all hold
That the Soul is immortal and none can control
Itís reign oíer the grave, so that death has no power 

For ever and ever or even this hour.
 
We commit to the ground, these earthly remains
And cherish the memory, suffer the pains.
While we trust his spirit to God who did give it
This was his life and the way he did live it. 

And so we account for our time here on earth 

That our tasks ever after may be of Thy  worth.
 Now go with the Father in his gracious keeping,
 And leave him to be, our brother-just sleeping.
 So you see thereís a reason that all men are born
 Thatís the reason I guess that the apron is worn,

back to top


The Trowel

Written by Michael N. Salmore

The tools of a true Master Mason-
A man who has proven his skill-
Are any or all that he chooses,
His task to correctly fulfill.
Foremost of these is the Trowel,
Which practical builders all class
As the tool for spreading of mortar
Uniting the house in one mass.

But we as Freemasons would use it
For purpose more noble and grand,
As craftsmen have faithfully taught us,
As Masonry's ritual's command,
To spread the cement of affection,
Devotion and brotherly love,
To bring peace, good will and contentment
On earth as in Heaven above.

Yea; this is the cement that unites us
In one sacred union of friends-
Brothers 'mongst whom no contention,
Nor discord nor diff'rence portends,
Except that most noble contention
By Masons Accepted and Free;
Or rather that fine emulation
Of who can best work and agree.

back to top


Lets Go to Lodge Tonight

by Unknown

Say, Son, let's go to Lodge tonight;
We haven't been for years.
Let's don our little apron white
And sit among the peers.
I feel a kind of longing, Boy,
to climb up those old stairs;
I know we'd get a thrill of joy
and lay aside the care.
I'd like to get out on the floor--
Come on, let's get in the line;
I'd like to face the East once more
And give the same old sign.
I want to hear the gavel ring,
To hear the organ play;
I want to hear the Craftsmen sing
I think the Tyler'd let us in,
That old familiar lay.
Although he'd hesitate,
And then we'd see that same old grin.
Come on, or we'll be late.
Pass up your bridge or picture show,
Your wrestling bout or fight;
Switch off that darned old TV set--
Let's go to Lodge tonight.

back to top

 


Home ] Up ] History ] Past Masters ] What is Freemasonry ] Education ] Links ] Magazines and Articles Online ] Lodge Officers ] Lodge Information ] Trestleboard ] Search Sites ] What is New ]


Legal Disclaimer
Send mail to webmaster with questions or comments about this web site.
Site Design Copyright © 2001 George Washington Lodge No.820
Last modified: July 21, 2001