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. . . the Seasons
A Mason's Birthday
By Wilbur D. Nesbit
Today you turn another page
In Life's long book of verse and prose,
And added to your craftsman's wage
This wish of mine with friendship glows.
One day you'll reach the easy slope
Which idles down the twilight hill --
Strong with the Promise and the Hope
May your days all be gladder still.
Time turns his hourglass once again;
The sands in an unceasing stream
Fall just as swiftly now, as when
Youth's sunshine held them with its gleam.
Life has its seasons, as the year
Turns softly on from day to day;
Ere we may sense it, change is here;
No hour may, save in memory, stay.
Life is at noon -- yet well we know
That we may live the hours agone,
That even shades of dusk may show
The glints of every olden dawn.
And you, whose birthday is a time
For us to think of all we've had
From you -- we send to you this rhyme
To wish you all that's good and glad.
Today you turn another page
In life's long book of verse and prose
And added to your craftsman's wage
This wish from all your Brethren goes:
That joy shine with the sun by day
And peace glow with the stars at night,
And that forever on your way
You fare beneath the one great Light.
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A Day of Thanksgiving
By Wilbur D. Nesbit
We are traveling East, my Brother, whenever in gratefulness
We think of the things that every day brings our lives and our homes to bless.
We are finding the path, my Brother, though frugal may be our feast,
If the good that we knew is the good that we do -- Ah, then we are traveling
East.
We are learning the Work, my Brother, whenever, with kindly aim
We lighten the care and our plenty we share with the poor and the halt and
lame.
We are speaking the Word, my Brother, and finding our joys increased,
When we can bring cheer to replace a child's tear -- Ah, then we are traveling
East.
We are bringing the Light, my Brother, whenever we greet a friend,
Whenever we lift a poor soul gone adrift, or one in distress defend.
We are marking the Way, my Brother, when through us has sorrow ceased,
When something we've said to a lone heart has sped -- Ah, then we are
traveling East.
We are traveling East, my Brother, whenever in thankful mood
We pause for a day to think and to pray, to set forth our gratitude.
The Word, the Work, my Brother, through ages have never ceased --
With the Word that is true and the Work we can do, Ah, then we are traveling
East.
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Make Me Mellow
By Douglas Malloch
Some would have Spring within the heart.
But I some mellow month in mine
Like old October! Flowers depart,
And even youth must resign --
But always, brothers, there are some
To whom no Winters ever come:
Always October skies are theirs,
Even amid life's wintry cares.
And I would have my soul look the same:
I cannot keep the look of youth,
But how October maples flame --
Age takes our beauty, gives us truth,
Age takes our with and makes us wise,
Age gives us life's October skies
And old October's mellower days,
A better time a thousand ways.
God make me mellow! Make me not
Sudden as Summer, brief as Spring.
I would not blow too cold, too hot,
I would keep kind through ev'rything.
I may give others less than flow'rs
Of flattery, but in their hours
Of grief, of trouble and of need
May I bring rather fruits to feed.
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The Masonry of Spring
By Douglas Malloch
Men say, "How wonderful is Spring!"
I say, "How marvelous is man!"
For Spring no more can gladness bring
To earth than men to mortals can.
The Springtime sun is very good,
But, oh, the smile of brotherhood!
And green the grass upon the slope,
But lovelier some word of hope.
There is a Masonry of earth,
Of sun and blossom, seed and rain;
The only Masonry of worth
Is one that brings the Spring again,
Brings strength to brothers sore beset,
And faith to brothers who forget;
Like sun to blossom, rain to seed,
Are men who come to men in need.
A great fraternity is ours
Who really see and understand,
A brotherhood of hearts and flow'rs
And smiling sun and stretching hand.
We, too, may bloom in our own way,
Make glad some other mortal's day,
As much as any birds that sing
In God's great Masonry of Spring!
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April in the Blue Lodge
By Wilbur D. Nesbit
The world is in the Blue Lodge the waking April days;
The azure sky is bending above the blossomed ways.
The winter, tough and rugged, has all been swept away --
The world is in the Blue Lodge with every April day.
'Tis more than any poem, that ever yet was penned --
This lesson brought with April to you and me, my friend.
Spring waxes into summer and autumn comes again,
But there are other Aprils with sunniness and rain.
We see the meadows wither, we see the flowers fade,
We see the snow come drifting above the hill and glade;
And yet we know that April will bring the bees and birds,
As truly as a promise set down in age old words.
The world is in the Blue Lodge, the rounding sky its dome;
The orchards in the breezes now toss their blossom-foam.
The Master of good workmen bids all the earth to say
The world is in the Blue Lodge with every April day.
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