The Ashlar Company
For the good of the craft...
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Lingering notes the echoes stir,
Soft and sweet, these walls along
Softly, sweetly they concur
In the pleasant tide of song
Night birds cease their plaintive lays
Listening to the hymn of praise.
Angels gliding through the air,
On celestial mission bent,
Pause, the sacred hymn to hear,
Fold their wings in soft content,
Join their notes divine to these,
Hymning Masons' mysteries.
Now the solitary room,
Peopled with a countless throng, —
Now the stillness and the gloom
Kindled with the tide of song,
Filling our delighted ears
Music of three thousand years!
Every Emblem pictured there,
On the ceiling, wall or floor,
Gavel, Trowel, Apron, Square,
Column rent or open Door,
Blends a light and yields a tongue,
To this softly lingering song.
Now the anthem dies away
One by one the voices cease
Birds resume their wonted lay
Angels on their mission press
But the latest note that moves
In the mystic song is Love's!
Remember, if you don't see the Ashlar "A", it's not authentic.
By Brothers, For Brothers & always For the good of the craft...
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