My Religion
author unknown
When talk turns to religion
I have notions of my own
Have my versions of the Bible
And things I think alone.
And I find them satisfying,
Find them comforting to me,
Though I wouldn't lose my temper
If you chose to disagree.
For religion as I see it
Is a pathway to the goal,
And its something to be settled
Between each man and his soul.
Now I'm not a Roman Catholic,
But I wouldn't go so far
As to fling away the friendship
Of the ones I know that are.
I've lived and neighbored with them
Come to love them through and through
I've respect and admiration
For the kindly things they do.
I've known Methodists, Baptists,
Scientists and Jews,
Whose friendship is a treasure
That I wouldn't want to lose.
So when the people talk religion,
I just settle back and see
Every helpful, loyal friend
Each Church has given me.
THE LEVEL AND THE SQUARE (circa August 1854)
Dr. Rob Morris, LLD, Masonic Poet Laureate 1818-1888
WE MEET UPON THE LEVEL, AND WE PART UPON THE SQUARE,—
What words of precious meaning those words Masonic are!
Come, let us contemplate them; they are worthy of a thought,—
With the highest and the lowest and the rarest they are fraught.
We meet upon the Level, though from every station come —
The King from out his palace and the poor man from his home;
For the one must leave his diadem without the Mason's door,
And the other finds his true respect upon the checkered floor.
We part upon the square, for the world must have its due;
We mingle with its multitude, a cold, unfriendly crew;
But the influence of our gatherings in memory is green,
And we long, upon the level, to renew the happy scene.
There's a World where all are equal,—we are hurrying towards it fast,—
We shall meet upon the level there when the gates of death are past;
We shall stand before the Orient, and our Master will be there,
To try the blocks we offer by His own unerring Square.
We shall meet upon the level there, but never thence depart;
There's a Mansion,— 'tis all ready for each zealous, faithful heart;
There's a Mansion, and a welcome, and a multitude is there,
Who have met upon the level and been tried upon the square.
Let us meet upon the level, then, while laboring patient here,—
Let us meet and let us labor, tho' the labor seem severe;
Already in the western sky the signs bid us prepare
To gather up our working tools and part upon the square.
Hands round, ye faithful Ghibilimites, the bright, fraternal chain;
We part upon the square below, to meet in Heaven again!
O what words of precious meaning those words Masonic are,
WE MEET UPON THE LEVEL, AND WE PART UPON THE SQUARE.
Rob Morris (August 31, 1818, Boston, MA
Died: July 31, 1888) was a prominent American poet and the Poet
Laureate of Freemasonry after Robert Burns. He also created the first
ritual for what was to become the Order of the Eastern Star.
http://www.phoenixmasonry.org/robert_morris_founder_of_oes.htm
(Made a Mason on March 5, 1846, at Oxford Lodge in Mississippi)
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 - 1832)
"A Mason’s ways are
A type of existence,
And his persistence
Is as the days are
Of men of the world.
The future hides in it
Good hap or sorrow,
We pass through it-
Naught there abides in it
Daunting us- onward.
And silent, before us,
Veiled the dark portal,
Goal of all mortal;
Stars silent rest over us,
Graves under us silent.
But heard are the voices-
Voices of the sages
Of the world and the ages-
Choose well, your choice is
Brief, but yet endless.
Here eyes do regard you
In eternity’s stillness,
Here is all fullness,
Ye brave, to reward you,
Work and despair not."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was a German writer, pictorial artist,
biologist, theoretical physicist, and polymath. He is considered the
supreme genius of modern German literature. His works span the fields of
poetry, drama, prose, philosophy, and science. His "Faust" has been
called the greatest long poem of modern European literature. His other
well-known literary works include his numerous poems, the "Bildungsroman
Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship," and the epistolary novel "The
Sorrows of Young Werther." ~wikipedia
(Lodge Amelie, Weimar)
The Temple
You may delve down to rock for your foundation piers,
You may go with your steel to the sky
You may purchase the best of the thought of the years,
And the finest of workmanship buy.
You may line with the rarest of marble each hall,
And with gold you may tint it; but then
It is only a building if it, after all,
Isn’t filled with the spirit of men.
You may put up a structure of brick and of stone,
Such as never was put up before;
Place there the costliest woods that are grown,
And carve every pillar and door.
You may fill it with splendors of quarry and mine,
With the glories of brush and of pen—
But it’s only a building, though ever so fine,
If it hasn’t the spirit of men.
You may build such structure that lightning can’t harm,
Or one that an earthquake can’t raze;
You may build it of granite, and boast that its charm
Shall last to the end of all days.
But you might as well never have builded at all,
Never cleared off the bog and the fen,
If, after it’s finished, its sheltering wall
Doesn’t stand for the spirit of men.
For it isn’t the marble, nor is it the stone
Nor is it the columns of steel,
By which is the worth of an edifice known;
But it’s something that’s LIVING and REAL.
Edgar Albert Guest (aka Eddie Guest) was a prolific English-born American poet who was popular in the first half of the 20th century and became known as the People's Poet.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Guest
(Ashlar Lodge 91 of Detroit)
