Classic Poem

" His Work was not done, yet his Column is broken "
Mourn ye and weep, for ye cherished his worth;
Let every tear drop be sympathy's token, —
Lost to the Brotherhood, lost to the earth.

H IS Work had been planned by a W ISDOM S UPERNAL ;
Strength had been given him meet for the same;
Down in the midst he is fallen, and vernal
Leaves fall above him and whisper his fame.

H IS Work WAS TO B UILD ; on the walls we beheld him, —
Swiftly and truly they rose neath his hand;
Envious death with his Gavel has felled him,
Plumb line and Trowel are strewn o'er the land.

His Work thus unfinished to us is intrusted;
M ASTER OF M ASONS , give strength, we entreat,
Bravely to work with these Implements rusted,
Wisely to build till the Temple's complete!