Classic Poem

A place in the Lodge for me,
A home with the free and bright,
Where jarring chords agree,
And the darkest soul is light;
Not here, not here is bliss,
There's turmoil and there's gloom,
My spirit yearns for peace, —
Say, Brothers, say, is there room'

My feet are weary worn,
And my eyes are dim with tears;
This world is all forlorn,
A wilderness of fears;
But there's one green spot below ,
There's a resting place, a home,
My spirit yearns to know, —
Say, Brothers, say, is there room?

I hear the orphan's cry,
And I see the widow's tear;
I weep when mortals die,
And none but God is near;
From sorrow and despair,
I seek the Mason's home,
My spirit yearns to share, —
Say, Brothers, say, is there room?

With God's own eve above,
With B ROTHER-HANDS below,
With Friendship and with L OVE
My pilgrimage I'll go;
And when, in death's embrace,
My summons it shall come,
Within your hearts' best place,
O, Brothers, O, give me room!