| I have recently receive a poem from across the Atlantic (Canada to be exact), and I would like it to be the first of many on this page -- Thanks David. If anyone visiting this page has any other Masonic Poems they would like to see on this page -- Please send them to me. |
| Those Men Who Wear Those Mason Rings Those men who help my dad each day, They wear those Mason's rings, A Square and Compass set in gold, The praise of which I sing. My dad, he hurt his back you know, One cold and wintery day. He slipped and fell upon the ice, The insurance would not pay. And since that time those rings I see, On hands that help us much, With mowing lawns and hauling trash, Each day my heart they touch. They even built a house for me, Amid our backyard tree, Where all the neighbour's kids, Would play with laughter full of glee. My Mum she cried with happiness, The time the Mason's came, To aid our family in distress, Without a thought of gain. And when I'm big, just like my Dad, Of this it must be told, I want to wear a ring like his, A Square and Compass gold. Long years have passed since when, My Dad was in that plaster cast, And since then I've sworn that Solemn Oath, Which unites us to the last. But more than that I'm proud to say, I wear his Mason's ring. The one Dad wore for many years, Until his death this Spring. And one last time his comrades came, To aid my weeping Mother, They praised and bid a fond farewell, To our fallen Brother. And after which MY son did ask, About their aprons white, And of the rings upon their hands, Of gold so shiny bright. With tearful eyes I said with pride, They're men of spirit pure, Those men who wear those Mason's rings, Of that you can be sure. And before he went to bed that night, The family he foretold, Someday I'll wear a ring like dad's, A Square and Compass Gold. By W:. Bro:. Michael R. Strampe P:.M:. Lake Lodge No.189 Milwaukee, Wisconsin ============================================= |
| Thanks to Alex Green Dingwall Scotland The Cork Degree You may climb the Mason's Ladder till you reach the highest point And in toiling slowly upwards rack yourself in every joint But I venture to inform you - if you've reached to thirty-three The best of all the bunch is what is called the Cork Degree. You ask me what it means? Well, Sirs, it means just what it says You can booze yourself to blazes through a hundred happy days You may stop your dinner or your tea and sell your knife and fork But you mus'nt venture out of doors without your Mason's Cork. It's a circle and the centre that it holds is Fellowship There are many signs and tokens which you may well give the slip So long as you do not forget that the Cork, to have its due, Must have safely in its centre what it seldom lacks - a screw. For that means the bottle's open, and the drinks are going round And the Corkites are delighted with the whiskeys gurgling sound As it cluck clucks in Friendship's name and flows right merrily And thus maintains the glories of the Almighty Cork Degree. Then when heads are getting muzzy and when eyes are getting faint And you're free to fight you're damndest with a devil or a Saint If some kindly Christain Soul enquires how many moons you see You may bet your empty tumbler he's got the Cork Degree. ============================================== |
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| Robert Burns |
| This page is dedicated to the most famous Masonic poet of them all. |
| WHAT IS A MASON? A Mason is a Man and Brother, whose trust is in God. He meets you on the Level and acts upon the Square. Truth is his Compass and he is ever Plumb. He has a true Grip of all that is Rite. He is loyal to his Order and whatever his Degree he is Master of himself. In the Lodge of life he wears unstained the White Lambskin of Innocence. On his Initiation as an Entered Apprentice he travels ever East towards the Light of Wisdom. Until he receives the final, the Divine Password that admits him into the Ineffable Presence of the Eternal Supreme Grand Master of the Universe GOD ========================================= |
| Last Night I Knelt Where Hiram Knelt Last night I knelt where Hiram knelt And took an Obligation. Today I'm closer to my God And I'm a Master Mason. Tho' heretofore my fellow men Seemed each one like the other, Today I search each one apart' "I'm looking for my Brother." And, as I feel his friendly grip, It fills my heart with pride; I know that while i'm on the square, That he is on my side. His footsteps on my errand go If I should such require; His prayers will plead on my behalf If I should so desire My words are safe within his breast As though within my own; His hand forever at my back To help me safely home. Good counsel whispers in my ear And warns of any danger; By Square and Compass, Brother now! Who once would call me stranger. I might have lived a moral life And risen to distinctions Without my Brother's helping hand And fellowship of Masons. But God, who knows how hard it is To resist life's temptations, Knows why I knelt where Hiram knelt And took that Obligation. |
2003 |
| St. Johns Masonic Lodge No 788 Cairncastle. (Province of Antrim) |
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