Pining in the prison cell,
Those we cherished long and well;
Brothers of the mystic light
In the dungeon's gloom to-night;
Brothers of the perfect square,
On the damp ground, cold and bare,
Far from home and hope removed,
Brothers fondly, truly loved.

Prisoners, as they sadly muse,
Do they ever think of us?
Do the memories of the tie
Woven strong by Masonry,
Enter in the dungeon's gloom
Bearing thoughts of Masons' home ,
Masons' song, and Masons' light?
Is it so with them to-night?

We can almost hear the sigh
And the groan of the reply;
Listen to the dungeon's voice:
" Memories of mystic joys,
Sweet illusions of my cell,
Emblems prized and pondered well,
Words of sweetest, sunniest cheer,
Signs expressing truth so dear! "
While we pray , then be our prayer
Fervent for the prisoner;

While we sing , let every note
Name the absent, not forgot;
While refreshment hours we join,
To their memory drink the wine;
And the toast of all the best
Be, " Our captives, soon released! "