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The world is in pain,

Our secrets to gain,

And still let them wonder and gaze on;

They ne'er can divine

The word or the sign,

Of a Free and an Accepted Mason.

'Tis This and 'tis That,
They cannot tell What,

Why so many great men of the nation,
Should aprons put on,

To make themselves one

With a Free and an Accepted Mason.
Great kings, dukes, and lords,
Have laid by their swords.

Our myst'ry to put a good grace on;
And thought themselves fam'd,
To have themselves nam'd

With a Free and an Accepted Mason.

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[Tune, Young Damon once, the happy swain.]

A MASON'S daughter fair and young,
The pride of all the virgin throng,

Thus to her lover said:

Tho', Damon, I your flame approve;
Your actions praise; your person love;
Yet still I'll live a maid.

None shall untie my virgin zone,
But one to whom the secret 's known,
Of fam'd Free-masonry :

In which the great and good combine,
To raise with generous design,

Man to felicity.

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Success to all accepted Masons;

There's none can their honour pull down
For e'er since the glorious creation,
These brave men were held in renown;
When Adam was king of all nations,
He formed a plan with all speed,
And soon made a sweet habitation,
For him and his companion Eve.
Then, &c.

We exclude all talkative fellows,
Who babble and prate past their wit;
They ne'er shall come into our secret ;
For they're neither worthy nor fit;
But those who are well recommended,

Whom we find honest and true;

When our Lodge is well tyl'd we 'll prepare 'em
Like Masons our work we'll pursue.

Then, &c.

!

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[Tune, Anacreon in Heaven.]

AS Poverty once in a fit of despair,

Sat beating her bosom and tearing her hair,

Smiling Hope came to ask, what her countenance told,
That she lay there expiring with hunger and cold.

Come rise, said the sweet smiling cherub of joy,

The torments you suffer I'll quickly destroy.

Take me by the hand. All your griefs come dispel.
I'll lead you for succour to Charity's cell.
Take me &c.

Old Poverty hobbl'd. Hope softened her pain.
But long did they search for the goddess in vain.
Towns, cities, and countries they travers'd around;
For Charity's lately grown hard to be found.

At length at the door of a lodge they arriv'd,

Where their spirits exhausted. the tyler reviv'd.

Who when ask'd. as 'twas late, if the dame had gone home, Said, "No. Charity always is last in the room.'

The door being open'd, in Poverty came;

Was cherish'd; reliev'd; and caress'd by the dame;
Whilst each brother present, the votary to save,
Obey'd his own feelings, and cheerfully gave.
Then shame on the man who our science derides,
Where this soft beaming virtue forever presides;
In the spiritual maxim let 's ever accord,

What we give to the poor, we but lend to the Lord.

SONG XI.

THE FAREWELL.

To the Brethren of St. James's Lodge, Turbolton.
BY ROBERT BURNS.

[Tune, Good night, an' joy be wi' you a’.]

ADIEU! a heart-warm fond adieu!
Dear brothers of the mystic tie!
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy!
Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing fortune's slipp'ry ha',
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still, tho' far awa'.

Oft have I met your social band,

And spent the cheerful festive night;
Oft honour'd with supreme command,
Presided o'er the sons of light;
And by that hieroglyphic bright,

Which none but craftsmen ever saw!
Strong mem❜ry on my heart shall write,
Those happy scenes when far awa'!

May freedom, harmony, and love,
Unite you in the grand design,
Beneath th' omniscient eye above,
The glorious Architect divine!
That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet's law,
Till order bright completely shine,
Shall be my pray 'r when far awa'.

And you, farewell! whose merits claim,
Justly that highest badge to wear!
Heav'n bless your honour'd noble name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear!
A last request permit me here,
When yearly we assemble a
One round, I ask it with a tear,
To him, the bard that 's far awa'.

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The solemn temple's cloud-capt tow'rs,
And stately domes are works of ours;
By us those piles were rais'd.

Then bid mankind with songs advance,
And through the ethereal vast expanse,
Let Masonry be prais'd.

We help the poor in time of need;
The naked clothe; the hungry feed;
'Tis our foundation stone.
We build upon the noblest plan,
While endship rivets man to man
And makes us all as one.

Thy trumpet, Fame, yet louder blow,
And let the distant regions know,
Free-masonry is this
Almighty wisdom gave it birth,
While wisdom fix'd it here on earth,
A type of future bliss.

SONG XIII.

As long as Columbia her form shall uprear,
Will masons stand foremost in verse.
Whilst harmony, friendship, and joys are held dear,
Few bards shall our praises rehearse.

CHORUS.

Though lodges less favoured, less happy, decay,
Destroy'd by old time as he runs ;

Tho' Albions, Gregorians, and Bucks fade away,
Still masons shall live in their sons.

If envy attempt our success to impede,
United we'll trample her down.

If faction should threaten, we 'll show we 're agreed;
And discord shall own we are one.

Tho' lodges, &c.

While with ardour we glow, this our order to raise, Promoting its welfare and peace;

Old masons return our endeavours to praise,

And new ones confirm the increase.

Tho' lodges, &c.

Go on, cry our parents; for time is your friend;
His flight shall increase your renown ;

And Mirth shall your guest be: and Bacchus attend'
And joy all your meetings shall crown.

Tho' lodges, &c.

SONG XIV.

COME, are you prepar'd,
Your scaffolds well rear'd?

Bring mortar, and temper it purely ;

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