Classic Poem

THE PAST MASTER .

O! raised to Oriental chair,
With royal honors crowned,
High grace and dignity to bear,
As in the days renowned!
With firmness guide the ruling hand,
Nor Gavel fall in vain;
And kindness soften the command,
And law the vice restrain.

The open Word delight to read —
That T RESTLE B OARD of Heaven —
And see that every Mason heed
The deathless precepts given.
And let the Trowel truly spread
Its cement so divine,
That all the Craft be duly paid
Their corn, and oil, and wine.

The Plumb Line , hanging from the sky,
In the Grand Master's hand —
Be this your emblem, ever nigh,
By this to walk and stand;
Thus, grateful Craftsmen will conspire
To sing your praises true,
And honors grant you, ever higher,
Than now they offer you.