Classic Poem

O! Brothers of the Mystic T IE ,
Come round me, if you please;
Lay down the GAVEL and the SQUARE ,
And let the TROWEL cease;
The work may stop a little while —
The Master will not blame,
While I from memory sing of one
Right worthy of the name, —
A true, old-time Freemason,
Whose name was W ASHINGTON !

Of every superfluity
His mind he did divest;
He would not set a timber up
Unless it was the best;
He plumbed, and squared, and leveled well
His B LOCKS , and set them true;
Then turned his apron M ASTER-WISE
And spread the mortar due, —
This true, old-time Freemason,
Whose name was W ASHINGTON !

When bloody war at foreign hands,
His country threatened sore,
He thought it right to take the sword,
And guard his native shore;
He stood where bravest hearts are found, —
He struck for liberty;
But when the white-winged angel flew,
A man of peace was he, —
This true, old-time Freemason,
This glorious W ASHINGTON !

Upon his Apron was no stain,
His work had no defect;
The O VERSEER accepted all,
And nothing to reject.
He lived in peace with God and man;
He died in glorious hope,
That C HRIST , the L ION , J UDAH'S PRIDE ,
Would raise his body up, —
This true, old-time Freemason,
O UR B ROTHER W ASHINGTON ,