Classic Poem

It is the mercy of our Heavenly Friend
That memory clingeth most to pleasant things;
We may forget the ills and pains of life,
Its bonds and losses; we may forget the graves
Of best beloved ones early torn away;
But in our memory there is safely hid
A store of happy things — the social hours,
The genial smiles, brightest of earthly light;
The manly grip that thrills the soul within;
The loving " Farewell, farewell, brother dear! "
These things do lie so closely at the heart,
While pulses beat they never can fade out.

So, dearest Friend, in calling up the past,
We find our early friendship of that sort
That dwells in memory; for it was enshrined
With unforgotten names of friends now dead;
Kind-hearted, faithful, full of zeal and love,
In graveyard now is their abiding place;
Beneath the green sprigs they repose in peace;
While we, a little longer, toil and wait,
Cheered by the recollections of their love.

And so, in future years, should we be spared,
May we recall this one more happy hour,
This group of cheerful faces, every hand
Strong in the grip fraternal, every eye
Filled with the light fraternal, every soul
Softened and sanctified by brother love;
And when, at last, the summons we accept,
And join the Lodge Celestial, may we find
Amongst our very happiest memories,
The hour of social joy we now begin!