Arriving in London he hastened to court,

Where numbers of little great men do resort,

Who all stood amaz'd, when he asked for the dame,

And swore they had scarce ever heard of the name.
Derry down, &c.

To Westminster Hall next the god did repair,
In hopes with Dame Justice she might be found
there,
For both he enquir'd, when the court answered

thus,

The persons you mention, sir, ne'er trouble us.

Derry down, &c. Then bending his course to the Cyprian grove, He civilly asked for the young god of Love; The urchin replied, could you think here to find

her, When I and my mother you know never mind her. Derry down, &c.

In one only place you can find her on earth, The seat of true friendship, love, freedom and mirth,

To a lodge of free-masons then quickly repair, And you need not to doubt but you'll meet with her there.

Derry down, &c.

X. THE "NO SINGER'S" SONG.

(By Bro. J. Lee Stevens.)

Without hesitation I answer the call

To sing you a song, though no singer at all;
For somebody, somewhere, this maxim let loose,
A bad song is better than any excuse:-

Don't you think he was right? if you think
he was wrong,

I've no chance again to be asked for a song!

I once had a friend with a treble so rare,
That he soared in his song like a bird in the air,
But finding that skylarks he stunn'd by the score,
In mercy descended and sang never more:-

Don't you think he was right? if you think
he was wrong,

I've no chance again to be asked for a song!

This Brother sang bass with a voice so profound, That his "double G" quavered a mile underground Till fearing an earthquake might some day ensue The singing gave up, and that splendid shake

too:

Don't you think he was right? if you think

he was wrong,

I've no chance again to be asked for a song!

For myself no one ever suspected that I
Could shake like an earthquake or lark in the sky;
But in drinking good wine I to none give the pass,
So I'll finish my song and then fill up my glass:-
Don't you think I am right? you can't think
I am wrong,

So drown in a bumper the "No Singer's"

song.

XI. THREE TIMES THREE!

BY BROTHER J. E. CARPENTER, OF LODGE, NO. 356.
Air-Le petit Tambour.

Oh! three times three is a mystery
That none but a Mason's allow'd to see,
But three times three hath a mighty thrall
That an echo meets in the hearts of all;
So fill the cup, and I'll give the test

Of a mason's craft, and-you know the rest.

Here's "A health to all masons, wherever they be," With a loud hurrah, and—a three times three!

CHORUS.

Come, join with me, let the toast go free,
Here's a health to all masons, with three
times three!

Three times three-is there one would shrink
In a temp'rate glass to his Queen to drink?
May her mind be as pure, and her soul as bless'd
As the tenets enshrined in a Mason's breast;
May the ONE who rules even kings above,
Instruct her in virtue, in peace, and love;
For a mason's pray'r, and his creed shall be,
A health to his Queen, with three times three!
Come, join with me, &c.

Oh! three times three shall the token be

Of friendship-obedience-fidelity,—

For 'tis friendship that brother to brother should bear,

And obedience a Mason show everywhere;
Fidelity-virtue the purest-the best

By Providence planted in every breast,

While these are combined, fill your glasses with

me

And drink "OUR GRAND MASTER" with three times three!

Come, join with me, &c.

XII.

Here's a health to each one,
From the king on the throne,
To him that is meanest of station,
If he can contend

To have lawfully gain'd

The name of an accepted Mason.

Fame trumpets it loud,
And seems to be proud
Of such a grand occupation,
To show unto all,

That there is none shall

E'er vie with an accepted Mason.

The glories of kings

Are poor empty things,

Tho' empires they have in possession,
If void of the fame

Of that noble name,
A free and an accepted Mason.

It is ancienter far
Than other arts are,
Surpassing all other profession;
There's none can pretend
To discover a friend
Like a free and accepted Mason.

The world is amaz'd
Their wonder is rais'd,
To see such concurring relation
Among us: they cry,

The devil is nigh

When one is accepted a Mason.

But let them say on,
To us 'tis well known
What's true or false in the relation;

Let's drink his health round

That is secret and sound, And a faithful accepted Mason.

XIII.

On you who Masonry despise,
This counsel I bestow;
Don't ridicule, if you are wise,
A secret you don't know

Yourselves you banter, but not it:
You show your spleen, but not your wit.
Inspiring virtue by our rules,
And in ourselves secure;

We have compassion for those fools
Who think our acts impure:
We know from ignorance proceeds,
Such mean opinion of our deeds.
If union and sincerity

Have a pretence to please,
We brothers of Free-masonry
Lay justly claim to these:

To state-disputes we ne'er give birth,
Our motto friendship is, and mirth.
Some of our rules I will impart,
But must conceal the rest:
They're safely lodged in Masons' heart,
Within each honest breast:

We love our country and our king,
We toast the ladies, laugh and sing.

XIV.

When a lodge of Free-masons
Are clothed in their aprons,
In order to make a new brother,
With firm hearts and clean hands,
They repair to their stands,
And justly support one another.

Trusty brothers take care,
Of eavesdroppers beware,
'Tis a just and solemn occasion
Give the word and the blow,
That workmen may know

You're going to make a Free-mason.