Classic Poem

If I were the Master Grand,
If I were the King of Judah now,
And of that sage Tyrian band
Who wore the cockle shell on the brow,
I'll tell you what I'd do:
I'd choose my brightest Parian rock,
No flaw or crevice in the block,
And right above the ivory throne,
I'd set the beautiful stone, —
The beautiful, beautiful stone.

I'd take from Lebanon the trees,
The cedars fragrant, tall and fair,
And hardened by the centuries.
And them to the Mount I'd bear;
Hiram should them prepare.
From Ophir's golden sands I'd drain
The yellow, choice and glitt'ring grain,
And these in mystic form should crown
The white and beautiful stone, —
The beautiful, beautiful stone.

Then unto every shrine I'd go,
To every lorn and humble grave,
And all the prayers and tears that flow
From women meek, and manhood brave,
And orphan lone, I'd have;
Prayers for sweet incense should arise,
And holy tears for sacrifice;
I'm sure that God Himself would own
And bless the beautiful stone, —
The beautiful, beautiful stone.

This beautiful stone, its name should be —
Each loving Mason loves it well,
'Tis writ in glory, — Charity , —
Best word the earth can tell,
Best word the heavens can tell;
Above the ivory throne so bright, —
Were I the M ASTER G RAND to-night, —
Where God and man alike would own
I'd set the beautiful stone, —
The beautiful, beautiful stone.