Not with the arm of earthly pow'r-or sword of carnal might;

But with the spear of reason, and the force of moral light.

Thus strove our ancient Brethren, the Crafts of olden time.

Each atom of creation, which met the curious eye, From earth's light dust, unto the orbs which stud the azure sky;

Was listed in the noble work, and made to magnify,

The Wisdom of the Great "I am"-the power of the Most High.

So pious were our Brethren, the Crafts of olden time.

Then let us strive to emulate, those virtues which have made,

The name of Mason glorious, as Sol in light arrayed;

And demonstrate to all the earth, that ages have conveyed

Undimmed to us the holy "Light" whose guiding lustre swayed

The actions of our Brethren, the Crafts of olden time.

XXXV. THE LODGE OF "SAINT JOHN." In friendship's perpetual bands

Free-masons are willingly bound; From the Pole down to Araby's sands The links of our Order are foundOn lands where those links never came, The sun in the Heavens ne'er shone, But strongest they bind, where they fiame From the East in the Lodge of "Saint John."

For here Brethren happily mee,
To welcome each guest with a smile;
And strangers most cordially greet,
In our ancestors' brotherly style.
While tempests of discord are seen
Fast gath'ring the welkin upon,
The sunshine of Love lights serene

In the East of the Lodge of "Saint John."
The Great Tower of brotherly love
From Freemasons' labours shall rise,
Ascending Earth's regions above

To form part of the Lodge in the skies.
But the loftiest pinnacle yet

On which Heaven's light ever shone, Has each stone immovably set

In the hall of the Lodge of "Saint John."

XXXVI. THE TRUTHS OF MASONRY. (By Brother J. E. Carpenter, of Lodge No. 356.)

When first I hail'd the sacred Craft,
I knew no cheering ray,

To guide me through life's mazy path,
Or warn me on my way.

A pilgrim, through the realms of gloom,
With careless steps I pass'd.
And little cared I for my doom,
Till Light was o'er me cast.

I stood alone and friendless there,
And helpless as a child,
Or wanderer on a foreign shore,
Forsaken and reviled.

A lonely lot I often knew,
But lonlier felt I then;

Yet found I Masons-Brothers, too,

And found those Brothers-men.

Mid the world's wilderness-its form and showIts tears unfelt-its smiles that hide deceit Yet one green spot untainted let me know,

Where kindly thoughts in mystic union meet. Though love grow cold, and friendships die away, May fond remembrance of the moments flown, Still beaming on, and smiling at decay,

Leave in my heart its first and fondest tone.

Oh! thou who madest me-seest me in my need, Take from my soul each thought of bitterness, That e'en ingratitude may never lead,

My heart to love thy erring creatures less. Teach me to gather in earth's dreary mine, Some gems that show their lustre yet is thine.

XXXVIII. A CHRISTMAS CHAUNT.

(By Brother W. Pringle.)

Let Worldlings their clubs and their coteries boast,

I leave such enjoyment to others;

For the best of delights is to circle the toast
With a band of true social Brothers,

Be with us in our Union!-let thy power

Aid us, as erst, in many a clime and landLet "Social Friendship" be our bond; the dower And blessing of all those whose truthful hand Is here extended, in this solemn hour,

With love and truth to each: a mystic band Pervading and uniting-we would be

Worthy thy name, as thus we're bound by Thee!

XL.

When evening dim is ushered in,
And the night-wind softly blows;
When the Lunar Queen, in beauty's mien,
Her light to the wide world shows,-
Like a widowed bride, in her youthful pride,
Who muses in silence alone,

Her night-watch keeps, while the weary sleeps
At the foot of her star-lit throne.

O! bewitching hour, of enchanting power,
The inciter of friendship and love!
When the goddess Truth, to age and youth,
Descends from her realms above,
'Tis then we meet in love to greet,
And the joys of fraternity share,
In order sublime, at a Mason's shrine,-
At the hieroglyph, compass, and square.

Our bosoms confide, and their secrets hide
From all anti-Masons and foes;

For on His sacred laws we've founded our cause,
As Freemasonry's potency shows.

Our heaven-born Order will not know disorder, While love warms the heart of each other: e'er betide, we find by our side son, a friend, and a brother.

(By Brother George Bennett, T.R.C.G.)

I stood beside a new-made grave one dark December day,

The clouds were weeping heavily, the sun withdrew his ray;

The birds were silent in the eaves, the zephers ceased to play,

And Sorrow seem'd to hold supreme her solitary sway.

I stood beside that new-made grave and thought of years gone by,

And thought how oft, in boyhood's time, we wandered cheerfully,

(The dead and I) on winter's ice, 'neath summer's golden sky,

And as I thought thus painfully, the tear stood in mine eye.

I called to mind the kindly heart, so cold and senseless there,

Once stored with fondest sympathies, like jewels rich and rare;

I called to mind the voice of glee, the bosom free from care,

The eyes that sparkled at the board, and gladdened everywhere.

And then I thought how awful 'twas, a good man in his bloom

Should meet with an untimely death, and moulder in the tomb.

"Was it for this thy mother gave thee welcome from the womb?"

I checked the impious thought, and cried—""Tis the Creator's doom."