I’ve Walked With Friends

I’ve Walked With Friends
A Masonic poem
by Ezekiel M. Bey, FPS

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What’s a companion,  What is a Friend
What’s the beginning, what is the end
What is the answer, to every question
What is the moral to every lesson

How can we fall, not knowing all
Why do we think, we know it all
Foolish the man who thought was tall
Foolish the person, who missed his call

A sight that’s blurry, a mental fog
Near sighted vision, can’t see the stars
Spiritual Kingdom greatly prepared
Where is the road, to lead me there

Is there a thought, I can create
A mental ship, to navigate
Is there a compass that I once knew
That I once measured, all latitudes

I can’t remember, I can’t recall
Did I forget, we all once crawled
What is the message to life itself?
To build internal, spiritual wealth

When will we see, what is above
The true experience, eternal love
So what’s the beauty that lives inside
I walked the distance with friends beside

Masonic poerty – A Mason and A Creed

A MASON

By BRO. CARL W. MASON
From The Virginia Masonic Journal, Richmond, Va
March, 1916

A Mason’s hand is a hand that helps, That
lifts the fallen one ‘
That comes, in need, with a kindly deed To him
whose strength is gone.

A Mason’s heart is a heart that loves The best that
is good and true;
He stands the friend, his best to lend, Under his
banner blue.

A Mason’s eye is an eye that smiles And his a
cheering voice;
He spreads the light, dispels the night And makes
the world rejoice.

Over the earth in stranger lands,
Where distant peoples dwell,
The eye, the grip, the life, the lip, Of love
unchanging tell.

A CREED

By BRO. HERBERT R. GRASSMAN
From Square & Compass, Denver, Colo.,
June, 1915

Hark ye, Masons, men of love,
Men of faith and men of fame!
Listen to the muffled cries
Of men in bondage, bound in shame!

Oh, what ignorance rules supreme!
Oh, what darkness hides the Light!
Oppose and fight all, things unclean
You are champions of the Right!

God in all His glory rules,
Watching over us with care;
He sends us wisdom, love and truth
With our fellow men to share.

Teach men how to see the Light
Not by word of mouth or pen,
But by deeds so kind and bright
Illuminate life’s path. Amen.

The Habitation of The Grand Architect

The Habitation of The Grand Architect – a poem
By Bro. Rev. J. Gierlow
From The Masonic Mirror,
October, 1872

God dwells in light!
Before the ocean of unmeasured space
Was islanded with stars serenely bright­
Reflecting back the radiance of His face,‑­
He dwelt above, in Heaven’s immortal bliss,
Thinking into existence that which is.

God dwells in light!
Before He laid the world’s foundation‑ stone
High on the nothing of primeval night,
And in Heaven’s center throned th’ eternal
He dwelt above, beyond the far‑off sky,
With Angels born of His Eternity.

God dwells in light!
And holds within the hollow of His hand
The universe of worlds which gem the night,
Which, through Heaven’s sea, at His divine command.
Freighted with His own smiles now sail at even,
Fearless of storms, around the sun in Heaven.

God dwells in light!
And where He dwells, there spirits also dwell,
Who drink fresh glory from His face so bright,
As stars drink from the sun’s deep golden well
Exhaustless beams, so that they never die,
And thereby show His immortality.

The Song of Saint John

From Masonic Odes and Poems
by Rob Morris LL. D.
1864

How blest is the home
Where the Brotherhood come!
How charming the time and occasion!
The love that was born,
In the heart of Saint John,
Now warms up the heart of each Mason.

It is you, Sir, and you,
Friendly Brothers and true,
No matter what may be your station-
On the level our way,
We are equal to-day,
For I, Sirs, with you, am a Mason!

This love that was born
In the heart of St. John,
Is the bond of a charming connexion;
Through good, and through ill.
It abides with us still,
And makes us thank God we’re a Mason.

When in the Lodge met,
And the officers set,
‘Tis of duty and pleasure the season,
Ah! gladly is given
To the Father in Heaven,
The praises devout of each Mason.

When labor is done,
And the Brotherhood gone,
Do you think that our secrets we blazon ?
No ! no, ’tis the joy
Of our mystic employ,
That we tell them to none but a Mason.

For ’tis this we do learn.
From our patron St. John,
The pride of this charming occasion,
That the tongue that conceals.
And never reveals.
Is THE VERT BEST THING FOR a Mason!

Then Lady and Sir,
While we stoutly aver.
In our Secrets we’ll never work treason.
The rules we profess,
Are the same that did grace
Our patron St. John, the Freemason.

And while to his name,
We may boldly lay claim.
To his graces we’ll cling till death’s season,
And then to the bourne.
Where his spirit has gone,
We’ll hie us like every good Mason.