I on the White S QUARE , you on the B LACK ;
I at fortune's face, you at her back;
Friends to me many , friends to you few;
What, then, dear Brother, binds me to you?
This , the G REAT Covenant in which we abide —
H EARTS charged with sympathy —
H ANDS opened wide —
L IPS filled with comfort,
And G OD to provide.

I in life's valley, you on its crest;
I at its towest, you at its best;
I sick and sorrowing, you hale and free;
What, then, dear Brother, binds you to me?
This , the G REAT Covenant in which we abide —
H EARTS charged with sympathy —
H ANDS opened wide —
L IPS filled with comfort,
And G OD to provide.

They in death's slumber, we yet alive;
They freed from labor, we yet to strive;
They paid and joyful, we tired and sad —
What, then, to us, Brother, bindeth the dead ?
This , the G REAT Covenant in which we abide —
H EARTS charged with sympathy —
H ANDS opened wide —
L IPS filled with comfort,
And G OD to provide.

Let none be comfortless, let none despair;
Lo, round the Black grouped the White Ashlars are!
Stand by each other, black fortune defy,
All these vicissitudes end, by and by.
Keep the G REAT Covenant wherein we abide —
H EARTS charged with sympathy —
H ANDS opened wide —
L IPS filled with comfort,
And G OD will provide!