Classic Poem

SELECT MASTER .

At midnight, as at noon,
The ancient worthies met;
The glances of the moon
Beheld those laborers late;
Nor, till the glancing moon was high,
Did any lay his Trowel by.

Each felt a weight of care,
A solemn charge o'erspread;
Each toiled in earnest there
With busy hand and head;
And to the deep and faithful cave,
Those midnight cratt a secret gave.

In whom the fire burns bright
At midnight as at noon,
All secrets come to light
Beneath the glancing moon;
Nor till the glancing moon is high,
Must any lay his Trowel by.