Classic Poem

In a deep, rocky tomb great King Solomon lies,
Sealed up till the judgment from all prying eyes;
The Square on his breast, and his kingly brow crowned —
His Gavel and Scepter with filletings wound;
At midnight, impatient, his spirit comes forth,
And haunts, for a season, the places of earth.

He flits, like a thought, to the chambers of kings, —
To the field where red battle has shaken his wings, —
To the cave where the student his fate vigil keeps, —
To the cell where the prisoner hopelessly weeps;
But most, where Freemasons their mystical round
Continue past midnight, King Solomon's found!

Oh, then, when the bell tolls Low XII do we hear
A rustling, a whispering, startling the ear!
A deep, solemn murmur — while Crafts stand in awe
At something the eye of a mortal ne'er saw!
We know it, we feel it , we welcome the K ING
Whose spirit takes part in the anthems we sing!

And then, every heart beats responsive and warm —
The A CACIA blooms freshly — we heed not the storm
Our tapers are starlit, and lo! from above,
There seems as descending the form of a dove!
'Tis the E MBLEM OF P EACE which King Solomon sends,
To model and pattern the work of his friends.

His Friends, loving Brothers, as homeward you go,
Bear Peace in your bosoms, let Peace sweetly flow!
In Concord, in Friendship, in Brotherly Love
Be faithful, — no Emblem so true as the dove!
The world will confess, then, with cheerful accord,
You have met with King Solomon at midnight abroad!