Classic Poem

THREE !

The drama ends, — the dead cast off their shrouds,
And, all erect, in solemn awe await
The Message; earth in every ear attends,
And Heaven is hushed while the Grand Master speaks.

'Tis not for man to look within the skies;
Let pen prophetic all these words record:
" I saw the dead, both small and great, arise,
And stand before the judgment seat of God; —

" I saw the grave deliver up its dead;
I saw, amazed, the once remorseless sea,
The very dust the winged winds had spread,
Collect and render up, all tenderly; —

" I heard one say, within the golden gate,
The happy, happy dead, forever blest,
Who died in Jesus, — for their works do wait,
And follow them to their eternal rest; —

" I heard one say, Depart, ye accursed, far
From Love Divine, and Light, and Heaven, depart;
The sick, the poor, the friendless prisoner,
Plead in my name, but vainly, to your heart; —

" I heard a multitude in sweetest frame,
Singing and harping to the All-Gracious God,
Who is , and was , and will be , ave, the same,
And never fails to man his plighted word! "

And reading this from the inspired hand,
May we not humbly hope, we Masons free,
That when before the Overseer we stand,
He will recall our deeds of charity.

Is it not written, from the widow's eve
We've wiped sad tears, — the fatherless have smiled, —
The homeless through our doors passed joyously, —
The hungry soul has been refreshed and filled?

We feel death's influence nearing, day by day;
In mother earth our hands must soon be stilled;
The evening shades to us seem cold and gray;
The night dews fall, our aching limbs are chilled.

Then let us hope, and hoping, labor yet,
Till the dread Signal fall, and we shall rise;
Ample our wages, and divinely set,
In rest and peace and bliss beyond the skies!