The people bowed obedient head;
Hiram, the Architect, began,
By long and wise experience led
(How sadly to our spirits come
The memories of the good man's doom!)
To justify the Monarch's plan.
From mighty quarries raised, the rock
In ashlars huge and weighty, drew;
See yet they rise upon the view
In spite of time and earthquake's shock!
Until there stood, as yet there stands,
The grandest pile of human hands;

A sure foundation, deep and wise,

On which the noblest works may rise.

The underpinning of Solomon's Temple, intact to the present day, is the heaviest piece of stone masonry ever constructed.

Parted on the sounding shore,
Each THE TOKEN keeping,
Met these Brothers nevermore-
In death they're widely sleeping.
But yet love's victory was won,—

The scar that bond expresses,

Their long and painful wanderings done

Has closed and left no traces!

The ancient practice of sealing devoted friendship between parting friends, by separating some metallic substances, as a ring, a coin, and the like, and dividing the fragments between the parties, is not altogether disused. In the rural districts of England and Scotland it is a custom of lovers, and many a poor laborer, whose body lies buried in the soil of the western continent, bore upon his person at his dying hour this token of betrothal with one who shall never again meet him on earth.

THE DOOR OF THE HEART.

Tyle the door carefully, Brothers of skill,
Vigilant workers in valley and hill!
Cowans and eavesdroppers ever alert,
Tyle the door carefully, door of the heart.
Carefully, carefully, tyle the door carefully,
Tyle the Door carefully, door of the heart.

Guard it from envyings, let them not in;
Malice and whisperings, creatures of sin;
Bid all unrighteousness sternly depart,
Brothers in holiness, tyling the heart.

Holily, holily, tyle the door holily,
Tyle the Door holily, door of the heart.

But should the Angels of Mercy draw nigh,
Messengers sent from the Master on high-
Should they come knocking with mystical art,
Joyfully open the door of the heart!

Joyfully, joyfully, ope the door joyfully,
Ope the door joyfully, door of the heart.

Are they not present, those angels, to-night,
Laden with riches and sparkling with light?
Oh, to enjoy all the bliss they impart,

Let us in gratitude, open the heart!

Gratefully, thankfully, ope the door thankfully,
Ope the Door thankfully, door of the heart.

THE BEAUTIFUL STONE OF THE MASONIC ARCH.

If I were the Master Grand,

If I were the King of Judah now,

And of that sage Tyrian band

Who wore the cockle shell on the brow,

I'll tell you what I'd do :

I'd choose my brightest Parian rock,

No flaw or crevice in the block,

And right above the ivory throne,
I'd set the beautiful stone,—
The beautiful, beautiful stone.

I'd take from Lebanon the trees,
The cedars fragrant, tall and fair,

And hardened by the centuries.

And them to the Mount I'd bear;
Hiram should them prepare.
From Ophir's golden sands I'd drain
The yellow, choice and glitt'ring grain,
And these in mystic form should crown

The white and beautiful stone,—

The beautiful, beautiful stone.

Then unto every shrine I'd go,

To every lorn and humble grave,

And all the prayers and tears that flow
From women meek, and manhood brave,
And orphan lone, I'd have ;

Prayers for sweet incense should arise,

And holy tears for sacrifice;

I'm sure that God Himself would own
And bless the beautiful stone,-
The beautiful, beautiful stone.

This beautiful stone, its name should be
Each loving Mason loves it well,

'Tis writ in glory,— CHARITY,—

Best word the earth can tell,
Best word the heavens can tell ;

Above the ivory throne so bright,-
Were I the MASTER GRAND to-night,—

Where God and man alike would own

I'd set the beautiful stone,—

The beautiful, beautiful stone.

THE CHECKERED PAVEMENT.

I on the WHITE SQUARE, you on the BLACK;
I at fortune's face, you at her back;

Friends to me many, friends to you few;

What, then, dear Brother, binds me to you?

This, the GREAT COVENANT in which we abide -
HEARTS charged with sympathy -

HANDS opened wide-
LIPS filled with comfort,

And GOD to provide.

I in life's valley, you on its crest;

I at its lowest, you at its best;

I sick and sorrowing, you hale and free;

What, then, dear Brother, binds you to me?

This, the GREAT COVENANT in which we abide —
HEARTS charged with sympathy

HANDS opened wide-
LIPS filled with comfort,
And God to provide.

They in death's slumber, we yet alive;
They freed from labor, we yet to strive;

They paid and joyful, we tired and sad

What, then, to us, Brother, bindeth the dead?

This, the GREAT COVENANT in which we abide-
HEARTS charged with sympathy-

HANDS opened wide-
LIPS filled with comfort,
And GOD to provide.

Let none be comfortless, let none despair;

Lo, round the Black grouped the White Ashlars are!

Stand by each other, black fortune defy,

All these vicissitudes end, by and by.

Keep the GREAT COVENANT wherein we abide—

HEARTS charged with sympathy-

HANDS opened wide

LIPS filled with comfort,

And God will provide !

There is no emblem that teaches a more practical every-day lesson to a Freemason than the Mosaic pavement, denoting human life checkered with good and evil.

THE CORNER STONE.

The thought embodied in these lines is one of the most charming fancies in Masonic symbolism; for the use of the trowel is admittedly the best work of the best Masons, and the Lodge that exists in peace and harmony is the model Lodge. To disturb this harmony by substituting clamor, calumny, and harsh judgment for the mild voices of peace is what is implied in the following lines under the idea of robbing the corner stone !

Here is a legend that our fathers told

When Mason toils were done, and round the board

The Craftsmen sat harmonious, in the glow

Of Brotherly Love! I heard it long ago.

From lips now silent; and by this corner stone

I fain would tell it as 'twas told to me.

'Tis said that SOLOMON, in the vast array
Of nine score thousand workmen who came up
From Lebanon's foot, to build the temple, found
Discord and strife, contentions harsh and sharp,
Even to murder; hands that wielded best
The peaceful Trowel, black with human gore;
Aprons, worn to protect them from the soil,
Bloody with horrid stain; and in their speech,
Instead of gentle memories of home,
And children's prattle and sweet mother love,
Dire curses, threats, the very speech of Hell,—
Such base materials came up from Tyre.

KING SOLOMON all humbly took the case to GOD,

And in deep visions of the night the VOICE

DIVINE came to his soul in sweet response.

From the great PEACE LODGE, where the patriarchs sit,
Wisdom descended, and his soul was glad.

The WISEST gave our wisest such a warmth

Of LIGHT celestial that the fire has burned,

Steady, undimmed, lo, these three thousand years.

'Twas this. I was but young in Masonry

When first I heard it; and 'twas told to me

By one of four score, long since gone to Heaven;

And he did testify unto his truth;

And now, I add the experience of my life.

To its strict verity, and it was this:

The MONARCH bade prepare a corner stone,
Vastly more large than this, than ten of this;