Classic Poem

We do not sigh for pleasures past,
Nor fondly, vainly pine;
Yet let us give one memory
To Auld Lang Syne.

With Gavel, Trowel, Gauge, we work,
With Level, Square, and Line;
Come, join the Chain OF L OVE , and sing
Of Auld Lang Syne!

For Auld Lang Syne, my dear,
For Auld Lang Syne;
Ah, who like us can sing the days
Of Auld Lang Syne?

'Twas sweet when evening's shadows fell—
How bright our Lights did shine!
Down from the East to hear the words
Of Auld Lang Syne.

The 'P RENTICE knocked with trembling hand,
The Craft sought Oil and Wine,
The M ASTER stood, and nobly fell,
In Auld Lang Syne.

With step so true, with form upright,
We drew the G RAND D ESIGN ;
'Twas well we knew “to square the work”
In Auld Lang Syne.

A tear to them, THE EARLY DEAD ,
Fond memory would consign;
We dropped the green sprig o'er their head,
In Auld Lang Syne.

And till the M ASTER call us hence
To join the L ODGE D IVINE ,
We sometimes give a grateful thought
To Auld Lang Syne!