Classic Poem

The sun is uprising on Scotia's far hills,
Day's labor is opening, the Grand Master wills,
But Lodge lights are gleaming in cheerfulness yet,
Afar in the West where we Masons are met.

There's song for the tuneful, kind words for the kind,
There's cheer for the social, and light for the blind.
But when we, uprising, prepare us to go,
With one thought and feeling we'll sing thy Adieu .

A melting farewell to the favored and bright, —
A sorrowful thought for the sun set in night, —
A round to the Bard whom misfortunes befell, —
A prayer that his spirit with Masons may dwell.
When freedom and harmony bless our design,
We'll think of thee, Brother, who loved every line;
And when gloomy clouds shall our Temple enshroud,
The voice of thy music shall come from the cloud.

Across the broad ocean two hands shall unite,
Columbia, — Scotia, — the Symbol is bright!
The world one Grand Lodge, and the Heaven above,
Shall witness the triumph of Faith, Hope, and Love;
And thou, sweetest Bard, when our gems we enshrine,
Thy jewel, the brightest, most precious, shall shine,
Shall gleam from the East to the far-distant West,
While morning shall call us, or evening shall rest.