Classic Poem

The vault arches o'er us, and night broods around;
Not a whisper is heard through the depth of the cave;
All hearts, in the silence of secrecy bound,
Are reading the words the Great Architect gave:
United they listen the voice of the law,
The guide to our reason, the spur of the soul,
And they feel in the sounds a sweet mystery draw
Their hearts to the Spirit who uttered the whole.

Now the work is completed, and all are combined,
To close in the secret and deep-hidden cell
The words which are treasured as light to the mind,
Like the waters of truth in their close-covered well;
Here safely secured, they shall live in the rock,
When the storm rages o'er it and levels the wall,
And still, in the rage of the conqueror's shock,
The arches shall neither be shaken nor fall.

We have laid in its secret and silent retreat
The treasure that kings shall exult to behold;
And the pilgrim shall hasten with ardor to meet
This gift, valued higher than jewels or gold:
Ages roll on their way, and no foot shall be heard
In search of this scroll to enlighten the world;
But a hand shall be found to recover the word,
And then shall the standard of truth be unfurled.

We are seated in silence, and nothing can find
Its way to our distant and mystical cave;
And the watchman who guards not, our mandate shall bind
In the deeper concealment of death and the grave:
Be faithful and true, ever firm to your trust,
Is the lesson we give in the council of light,
And the herald shall summon you forth from the dust,
Above in the meeting of souls to unite.