Work up to the landmark, brothers,
We shall not always stay,
The falling shadows warn us
To work in the light of day.
How often our footsteps turn
Where a brother's form is hid,
Oft we cast evergreen sprigs
On a brother's coffin lid.
Thou, who dost give to each
Some appointed post to hold,
Teach us to cherish the weak,
To give Thy silver and gold;
To guard as a soldier guards
Honor and Love's pure shrine,
To give our lives for others,
As Thou did'st for us give Thine.
To Masons all over the world
Give wisdom to work aright,
That they may gather in peace
Their working tools at night.
May love's star glitter o'er each,
Amid darkness, storm or mist,
As on this night of St. John,
Our Blest Evangelist.
Vain Dreams.
--"Throughout the day, I walk,
My path o'ershadowed by vain dreams of him."
--Italian Girl's Hymn to the Virgin.
Mother, gazing on thy son,
He, thy precious only one,
Look into his azure eyes,
Clearer than the summer skies.
Mark his course; on scrolls of fame
Read his proud ancestral name;
Pause! a cloud that path will dim,
Thou hast dreamt vain dreams of him.
Young bride, for the altar crowned,
Now thy lot with one is bound,
Will _he_ keep each solemn vow?
Will _he_ ever love as now?
Ah! a dreamy shadow lies
In the depths of those bright eyes;
Time will this day's glory dim,
Thou hast dreamt vain dreams of him.
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