%Jts fc^J&'-S ' '^f ' ^*& * *^%-^ ; * *:' v* Sfef vW SI *)T/?*SW*- : : ^m&&i&t W$m* fmm_ &*$& ^^"' afcfi LIBRARY of Rare, Curious, Quaint, Useful and Unuseful Books. s iS?.'**" SR\^^ ^55$ ^^ V: '^^^ ^M^ifia ^wr**''' '' *fe^.^F-' ^ -^i^V'f^:*-; -- ;7.. ^"aW.^fe' '.^V^ *^/i*?5i*:: in : ^&^ : ^& ',$'" I POEMS OF WITH MEMOIR. ANSONIA, CONN.: PRESS OF "THE EVENING SENTINEL. 1887. j, TO THK MKMORV OF JOHN WHITING STORKS, WHOSE LIFE WAS PURE, WHOSE AIMS WERE HIGH, WHOSE PURPOSES WERE NOBLE; WHO SAM; so s \YKET LY OF FAITH IN <;ol>, OF HOPE IX IMMORTALITY, OF LOVE TO ALL MANKIND, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY HIS LOVING WIFE. M191900 MY EPITAPH: What shall you say of me ? This if you can, That he loved like a child, and lived like a man; That, with head that was bended, he reverent stood In the presence of all that he knew to be good; That he strove as he might with pen and with tongue, To cherish the right, and to banish the wrong; That the world was to him as he went on his way, As the bud to the flower; as the dawn to the day That he knew was to come. E'en, say if you can, That he labored and prayed for the crowning of man As king of himself; that the God that he knew Was the God of the many as well as the few The Father of all. Write, then, if you must, Of the errors that came with the clay and the dust; l>ut add as you may, perhaps to the verse, For his having lived in it, the world is no worse. *The above beautiful lines were the result of an inquiry by the late Dr. Beards- ley while preparing his History of Derby. Turning to Mr. Storrs, one day, while writing, he said: "Well, John, what shall I say of you?" Without making reply, Mr. Storrs turned to a desk and wrote out his "epitaph, 1 ' as above. It was an impromptu effort and so pleased the doctor that he incorporated it in his history. PREFACE, This book is not for the critic, or for those who have attained perfection in the methods of thought and expression. It is an attempt to preserve to the world thoughts and utterances that were honest-hearted efforts to lead men to higher and better living; to teach faith in God and charity to fellow-men. Mr. Storrs was always diffident of his poetical abilities, and modest in his estimate of the value of his writings, and until a recent period was averse to any attempt to put them in book form. Strongly urged by his friends, espec- ially among the Veteran Free Masons, to do so, he finally yielded to their solicitations and at the annual meeting in Bridgeport, in 1886, he promised to undertake the work, which was begun soon aiterwards. Ill health and pressing newspaper duties prevented rapid progress with the preparation of the manuscripts, and but little was accomplished by him, though at the annu- al meeting, at New Britain, in June last, he announced that he expected to get the poems into print by the end of this year. In a few weeks thereafter he sickened and died. From the condition in which the manuscripts were found it is evident that Mr. Storrs had intended to revise them somewhat, but in just what line or direction cannot be known. Feeling personally anxious that the work should be completed, and being urged thereto by his Masonic and personal friends, I have attempted the work of compiling and arranging the poems for publication, not because I was the one best fitted for it, but because, know- ing him intimately, and having been bound to him by family and fraternal ties for more than a third of a century, I better know the man and the spirit that prompted and permeated all his writings. Doubtful of my abilities in such a line, I have attempted a task which I would not have done but for the kindly assistance of Mr. J. M. Emerson, of "The Ansonia Sentinel," with whom Mr. Storrs had been associated on the editorial staff. Had Mr. Storrs lived to complete the work he would doubtless have modified many of his poems, for some of them, as I well know, were hurried- ly written for special occasions, without time for revision. I have preferred to print them just as I found them, correcting only manifest typographical errors, and preserving the strong individuality with which they are stamped. What Mr. Storrs wrote was from the promptings of a warmly generous heart. Only a few months since he said to me: " In all that I have written it has been my aim never to lead man to think more meanly of his fellow- inan, or to lessen to any degree his faith in God. My aim has been to edu- 6 PREFACE. cate, to elevate and to ennoble humanity." I am certain that he spoke the truth; and because I was in full sympathy with him in all his aims and pur- poses, I am anxious that thoughts which he expressed so sweetly and tenderly should be preserved. May those who love the things that are good and true; who toil in faith, and hope, and love, to lead their fellow-men to a higher and better plane of existence, gain fresh strength and courage from the inspiring words of one who "looked through Nature up to Nature's God," and of whom I can truly say: "For his having lived in it the world is no worse.'' WM. WALLACE LEE. MKKIDKN, CONN., Oct., 1887. MEMOIR. JOHN WHITING STORKS was born in the Connecticut rural town of Woodbridge, February gth, 1824. His father was John Roger Storrs, and his mother Sarah G. Clark, a granddaughter of Rev. Mr. Woodbridge, the original pastor of the town. He was of the sixth generation from Samuel Storrs, one of the earliest proprietors of Mansfield, Conn. From Wood- bridge his parents removed to Oxford, where most of his boyhood days were spent. Thence they came to Seymour (then Humphreysville) and there he grew to manhood. The educational facilities of the time were of themselves quite limited, but Mr. Storrs was unable to avail himself of even such as they were. When he reached his majority he possessed only the simplest rudi- ments of an education, his father being more desirous that the son should make a good shoemaker than that he should drink of the draughts of knowl- edge. The trade was distasteful to him, was prosecuted very reluctantly, and abandoned at the earliest opportunity. Mental pursuits were far more con- genial. It is related of him that as a boy he was very fond of drawing, and many were the pictures of houses, barns, trees and other objects that he traced in graceful outline with charcoal upon rude pieces of board. The poetic capabilities of his mind also began to manifest themselves early. In 1849 he wrote a short poem that attracted considerable attention in his neigh- borhood, which poem was credited to his mother, then an invalid. Some creditable specimens of painting also appeared from his hand about this time, but he did not undertake to develop his powers in this direction to any great extent. In 1849 he was appointed postmaster of Humphreysville, under Presi- dent Taylor, surrendering the office in 1853 when President Pierce came in. Soon afterwards he started the "Seymour Independent," a paper which, as its name indicates, was professedly independent, but with Whig tendencies. This was the first effort to establish a newspaper in Seymour. It was an earnest and sincere effort, but was abandoned after two or three years, for want of patronage. It sufficed, however, to quicken the desire and confirm the taste for newspaper work, and from that time to his death Mr. Storrs was connected with the press in the capacity of correspondent, reporter or editor. His latest connection was with "The Ansonia Sentinel," having full charge of its Birmingham department, over which he presided for almost six years with much credit to himself and great acceptability to the public. Prior to this, about 1858, he had taken editorial charge of " The Derby Journal," a 8 MEMOIR. Birmingham paper that was in a moribund condition when he came to it, and which neither business tact nor literary ability could rescue from the natural decease that awaited it. After this effort, he engaged in the photograph busi- ness, proving himself a very good artist, but was unable to prosecute the trade for any long period of time owing to ill health. Mr. Storrs was quite prominent among the Masonic fraternity of his state, and by some has been characterized as the poet of the order. At many of the annual reunions of the Veteran Masons during the past ten or twelve years he has been present and has read poems on each occasion. These are all included in the present volume, with some others. He became a Mason in 1852, being initiated into Morning Star lodge, of Seymour. He after- wards affiliated with King Hiram lodge, of Birmingham. He was also a member of Solomon chapter, R. A. M. He never held any offices in the order, having no taste for ritualistic lore and the technicalities of law. But the principles of brotherhood always commanded his willing service at any time. Hence he was very often called on for poems at reunions and society gatherings, and his productions were always received with hearty demonstra- tions of approval. Mr Storrs was also warmly attached to the veterans of our late civil war, and by his patriotic verses and personal efforts in behalf of the survivors of the struggle, so enshrined himself in their affections that he was regarded as one of their number. Several of the poems read by him at celebrations of the veterans are also included in the collection. The death of Mr. Storrs occurred on Sunday, August 28th, 1887. He was in his sixty-fourth year. CONTENTS MASONIC: PAGE. A 1'oem, 49 Brotherhood, - 33 Burns to His Friends, 63 From Darkness to Light, 16 In Memoriam, - 67 June Snow, 21 Masonry Its Meaning and Mission, - 25 The Blessedness of Masonry, 71 The Closing of the Lodge, 73 The Double Funeral, - - 72 The old and the New, 57 The Religion of Masonry, 37 To the Veteran Craft, 14 To the Craft. - 28 Two Vacant Chairs, 41 You and I, .45 PATRIOTIC: Company Z, 103 Don't Forget Them, - 97 For Memorial Day, 87 In the Orange Churchyard, - 78 My Father's Flag and Yours, 98 North and South of Dixie, 81 Thanksgiving for Victory, 96 The Day and Its Lessons, - 89 The New Dixie, 91 The Spirit of the Men, 76 OCCASIONAL: Just Twenty Years Ago, 112 Old and New, - 107 The Bright To-morrow, 113 The Story of the Years, - 116 10 CONTENTS. TKMPKKANCE: PAGE After the Debauch, 137 He stood at the Bar, ( )n 'y, - Shall We License It ? The Heathen at our The Red Light Decoy, ( )n 'y, - 140 . i 39 he Heathen at our Door, - 135 MUSINCS: A Fragment _ . 2 oo A Reverie, _ . j i j A Reverie _ _ jcg At High Rock, . I9I Castle Building, j^ Consolation, _ ^3 Death, the Revealer, . . jg^ Farther Light, . . - 186 God in His Providence, - _ _ jgj In the Cottage Beside the Sea, - . Ioo Jake and Joe, Ig8 Let Us Tray, . - 179 Lowering the Standard, ^3 My ( 'reed, - - 143 Ne\v Year's Thoughts, _ J73 Night on the Boulevard, . _ l j I Sad Moments, _ - 176 The Church our Fathers Built, . IO g The Great To-day, . . _ 2 oi This Hero of Ours, . _ I( ^ The Old Folks Talk it Over, I53 The Old Town Clock, - . I9O The Sealskin Sacque, - r gy The Silk-worm and Glow-worm, _ I( >7 The Test for True Living, - _ U j6 The Unknown Dead, _ l c )O The Yet to Be, I77 Truth, . I8o Under the Shadow, . r wj What W T ins, _ - 164 Well Done, 2OI N'e are the Reapers, - - _ . _ I4I - CONTENTS. II FANCIES:- PAGE A Birthday Rhyme, - . 233 A Christmas Carol, .. . 243 Among the Memories, - _ 245 Autumn, - 205 Baby Belle, . . 204 Barbara Bray, - . _ 206 Barney McKay, 216 Beaver Brook, - _ - 261 Beautiful Leaves, - ... 256 Kmpty is the Coal Bin, _ _ 242 Five Words Only, - 203 Indian Well, _ _ 253 Little Things, - 225 My Dream, - _ " . 234 My Village Home, . _ 240 My Wife, . - - 224 Old and New Year, - _ 257 They are Seven, - 226 The Beggar's Christmas, - _ 236 The Dying Girl, - _ 208 The Maid of Lindermere, - - 212 The Picture Upon the Wall, - - - 263 The River of Time, _ 210 The Town on the Hill, _ . 259 The Two Fishers. - 228 The Tying of the Greens, - - _ 222 The Voyage of Life, _ _ 252 MISCKLL. \NF.ors: A Man is a Man, - - _ 273 An Eastern Apologue. . 286 An Farly Frost, - 281 December, 314 Discouragements, _ T>i6 Hon. Josephus Brown, _ 265 In Memoriam (Dr. A. Beardsley) - - 274 Let Him Alone, - - 270 Lines (Lee Silver Wedding), _ 317 Love Cannot Die, - - 324 Lo! the Poor Indian, - . 3 I2 Marry a Gentleman, - - 267 12 CONTENTS. MISCELLANEOUS: PAGE My Story of the Years, - 300 New England, 264 Our Modern Girls, - 287 On Sambro Ledge, 322 Thanksgiving in Ye Olden Tyme, - 310 To an Invalid Mother, 271 The Boycott, - 268 The Dying Soldier, 295 The Greenhorn Invasion, - 289 The Little Grumblers, 304 The Lockout Bell, - 283 The Making of the Will, 297 The Trouble at Podank, - 275 The Volunteer Bell, 320 To My Mother in Heaven, - 321 True Greatness, - 324 Two Ways of Living, - - 306 What I Would Have Said, 291 What the First Robin Said, - 280 INVOCATION. 0H Masonry Sublime ! beloved of all that know The matchless beauty of thy sov'reign charms: Through all their years of journeyings below, Thy sons have sheltered in thy loving arms ; Still hold and keep them firmly by the hand, Till ends their journey to the better land. As by the chisel and the mallet's blow, The fairest forms in beauteous marble live : So, from our hearts may evermore outflow Those comely graces it is thine to" give : That finds a flower on every thorny rod, And leadeth on to manhood and to God. Broad o'er the earth let thy proud arches span ; High as to heaven, thy shining turrets rise ! Stretch forth thy hand and lift poor fallen man From error's ways, and teach him to be wise ; So shall the world in thee, above the night, Hail the glad dawn of Universal Light. 14 MASONIC. TO THE VETERAN CRAFT. READ AT THE SECOND ANNTAL MEKTINi; OF THE VETERAN ASSOCIATION IN BIRMINGHAM, JUNE, 1872. "VT'E reverend sires ! once more our feet A Upon one common LEVEL meet, Where, knee to knee and breast to breast, We whisper welcome to each guest Whose honored locks have, by the way Of past decades, grown ripe and gray ; And who, by dint of honest toil, Have quite deserved life's WINE AND OIL. Thrice honored sires ! save only where Some silvery head lifts here and there Above the wreck like lands of light Uprising through some shadowy night The busy world that was your own, Has passed away, and ye, alone, Of all your craft, are left to tell How much ye builded, and how well ; How, when attacked by Church and State, When RUFFIANS stood at every gate, With trait'rous heart and venomed tongue, Dissent to show your craft among ; When truth seemed crushed and error grew, O'ershadowing all the good and true ; When craven lips, like Peter's, cried, " I know ye not," still on the side Where foes were rife and friends were few, Ye fought the fight, and gained it, too. Unquestioned now through all the land Extends the ARCH that HIRAM planned ; Embracing 'neath its glorious span The whole broad brotherhood of man. And we, your sons, are here, to-day, MASONIC. 15 Beneath its sheltering dome to lay Upon his brow the grateful wreath, Who fought our fight, and kept our faith. Amid the darkness of that night, Your cry went up to God for LIGHT. He heard your prayer, and gave you strength, And years to see the dawn, at length, Whose glowing light illumines our way With promise of still brighter day, When wars shall cease, and Love shall bind With strengthened bonds all human kind ; Which opening wide the gates of bliss, Makes future life the goal of this. I know not what in store may be For you, my brother, or for me ; But this I know since God is just If in His strength we put our trust, Through journeys long, or good, or ill, His strong arm will lead us still. And when we part as part we must Somewhere to meet again, I trust, May that calm strength, that earnest arm, That rugged faith which kept aflame Our altar fires through ill and good, Descend to bless our brotherhood. There comes a time it comes to ail- When we shall hear the Warden's call, And each, with ASHLER ROUGH or true, Must pass Death's solemn portal through. Be it yours, my brother, then to hear From th' Master's lips these words of cheer, " Your work is found both true and square, Pass on !" l6 MASONIC. FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. READ AT THE ANNUAL MEETINC OF THE VETERANS IN NEW HAVEN, 1874. Venerable Brothers : r WELVE months have passed since last we met Upon this ancient LEVEL, When, " looking east, we gave the sign, And heard the parting ' gavel.' " The kindly benizon was said, Each brother, loving hearted, With each exchanged the friendly "grip," And "on the square " we parted. Who, then, the future could forecast ? What prophet tell us whether Or not, at our next " gavel " call, We all should meet together? Yet, though behind each " Temple gate " Some " ruffian " foe was hidden, By dint of strength we " pass " at length, And come, to-day, as bidden, To drink with you the "oil and wine " From mystic fount supernal, Beneath the broad, protecting " Arch " Of Masonry fraternal. " Sojourners " here but for a time, Life's morning pack we gird on, Yet, ere, perhaps, the evening sun, We drop the precious burden. The longest life is short at best, And even though we should win What men call "length of years," at last, (Like Brothers Wells and Goodwin), We fill (I trust with honest "work,") Our bark and o'er the river, With hope and "trustful heart," pass on From mortal sight forever. MASONIC. 17 Lo ! as I look along this line Of craftsmen gray and hoary, I seek for one familiar form One manly "crown of glory." You point me to one vacant chair The name of WIRE is spoken ; You tell his virtues, but alas ! I find his "column " broken. 'Twas builded well. Full eighty years His honest blows resounded From "base " to "cap," till "ashler rough " Was sweetly smoothed and rounded. 'Twas built upon such solid base Of brotherhood and duty, That even Time's despoiling hand Could scarcely mar its beauty. And though to dust its dust returns, The builder's inward spirit Of love for God and fellow-man As Masons we inherit. () craftsmen, what a world were this, If men would work together, Like brothers true, life's journey through, In dark or sunny weather; There's scarce an ill to us bequeathed By Eve, our erring mother, But might be cured, or well endured, If men would love each other. Our Father, God; our mother, earth; Are we not brethren fairly ? Why then should we not all " agree, In peace and love and unity," To treat each other squarely ? Ought men to act like wolves in pack, That eat each lame relation, Nor spare a friend if selfish end Demands his immolation ? l8 MASONIC. Can we afford to draw the sword At every slight offending, While o'er our head- perhaps by a thread Are sharper ones suspending ? I tell you nay ! the gentler way Is best with those that grieve us : For when we pray, do we not say, " As we forgive, forgive us ?" O craftsmen, then, let us as men And brethren dwell together ; For aye to stand, with heart in hand, In friendship by each other. The day for bigotry and hate Is past and out of season : No partial God holds out the rod In this the day of reason ! No petty tyrant as of old, With creed and dogma crammed, sir, Shouts, swim MY brook and bite MY hook, Or I will see you damned, sir. Or, IF he "shout, " some worldly lout, More sharp than reverential, With grinning mask, is apt to ask, To see the chap's credential. The ruling theme to-day is love, In sermon and in story ; And few will tell of infant's hell, Where God once wrought his " glory." In fact, this thought is gaining ground, (For which we're much the debtor,) By Gods or men, by tongue or pen, The less we're damned the better. " Man Friday's " question, " why don't God Wipe out this fiend of evil?" Is answered, since good common sense At last HAS "killed the devil." MASONIC. 19 Yet, brother m-ine, though law divine Is love not retribution, Still this is true, who fails to sow Will reap but destitution. Who sows the wind and reaps the storm Gets all that's due him fairly ; Who sows the sun at heart is warm, And walks in darkness rarely. Some one may say, now if I pray And go to church on Sunday, I've filled the plot, no matter what I choose to do on Monday ! Be not deceived ! With Masons true Each week has Sundays seven ; And every one, from sun to sun, To righteous " work " is given. Be not deceived ! 'tis th' conscience men Who "work " for seven-day wages ; , That build our ARCH and lead the march Of progress through the ages. 'Tis not enough that men should meet In seventh day convention, And mumble creeds, content that deeds Should have the merest- mention. 'Tis not enough that men should mouth Their prayers of showy sounding, While at their door God's needy poor, Unaided, are abounding. The tree whose mission 'tis to bear But flowers, has done its duty, When its perfume is on the air, And men have seen its beauty. But where we have a right to look For FRUIT of fair dimensions, Why be content with the simple scent Of flowery-made pretensions ? 20 MASONIC. God asks for "figs !" and if the tree In barrenness still slumbers/ He cuts it down and plants his own Upon the ground it cumbers. God asks for WORK ! Then, as he gives Us strength, so let us use it, That EVERY day its part shall bear In yielding "work," so " true and square,' That he will not refuse it. Here I might pause ; and yet, perhaps, 'twere fitting, That should be spoken words of kindly cheer To these our fathers, as a special greeting, On this reunion of another year. To these, our fathers, that in day of trial, Stood by our craft when weaker spirits quailed, Chiseling in darkness, faith and self-denial Stones for the altar the future was to build. Meeting on the hill-top toiling in the valley Watching for the cowan ever on their trail ; Only this to guide them only this to rally, Brotherhood and duty to " God within the veil." Well, " how goes the hour " with you, O aged warder ? With you whose head so whitens in the sun ? With you whose feet tread close upon the border, Where "labor" has an end, and refreshment is begun ? How goes the hour, through valleys dark and lowly ? More thorns than flowers, more bitter fruit than sweet ? " Look to the east !" the morning breaketh slowly, With rest and refreshment for your weary feet. Only a little way, and then the road winds sweetly Down sloping woodlands to the setting sun, Only a little while, and struggling hope completely Shall find fruition for life's " labor" done. MASONIC. 21 Only a little way, and the realms supernal, Through opening vistas break upon the sight ; Only a little while, and in the " Lodge " eternal, Shall all be "raised" from darkness into LIGHT. JUNE SNOW. READ AT THE ANNUAL REUNION OF THE VETERANS AT WATKRBURY, JUNE 26, 1878. " A hoary head is a crown of glory." " I have fought the tight I have kept the faith." I. IN this leafy month of June, With the forests all attune, And the buttercup and daisy Everywhere upon the ground; Tell me, craftsmen, if you know, Why hath come this line of snow, Here within this mystic Temple, To encircle us around ? Surely, there is place and time, For the snow, and for the rime, Where the buttercup is sleeping, While the daisies are away; But the thing is not so clear, In this summer of the year, Why it sifteth in upon us At our gathering of to-day. Yet some lesson, we may know, Lieth underneath the snow As, sometimes, a smile is hidden Underneath a seeming frown; 22 .MASONIC. So these snowy flakes so white, Come to symbolize the light, And to teach that nearest Heaven Shines the fairest, whitest crown. Just as in some mountain land, While the traveler may stand, Gazing upward toward the summit Of some snow-capped mountain high, In its majesty erect, He may truthfully reflect, That it gains its chiefest glory From its nearness to the sky. Aged brother, well I know, That the frost upon thy brow, But reflects the ray supernal That is streaming from on high. And as farther on you climb, Toward the pinnacles of time, Every step, some brighter glory Shall be gathered from the sky. Limbs may totter as you go, Furrows deeper line the brow, Slower beat life's waning pulses, Through each blue and shriveled vein But the soul, forever young, With a firmer step and strong, Shall impatient onward hasten, Till it reach the shining plain. II. Through the twilight, dim and gray, Upward to this brighter day, Ye have brought the " perfect ashlers " Which were hewn upon the way; True and Square, without a trace MASONIC. 23 Of 'prentice hand upon their face " Just the work are they that's wanted For the Temple " of to-day. On each polished block we trace Lines which time cannot efface Pictured lines of ancient battle, With the Cowans of the wrong; And we read with quickened sight, How ye struggled for the right. Till the foe at last was vanquished, And the weak became the strong. Ah, the lesson that is taught In the story thus inwrought, As we build our earthly Temple, To our profit we may scan; Learning, so our block to place, As to give it strength and grace, And to lay our strong foundations Deep within the inner man. III. Craftsmen, with your Spade and Bar, Ye have traveled long and far; Tell me, if amid your travels Ye have found the Sacred Word ? Out of darkness into day, As ye fought your stur.dy way, Deep within life's inner Temple, Was the voice of Wisdom heard ? E'er had come these winter days, With their cool and slanting rays, Didst thou heed the great commandment, " Love thy God and neighbor, too " ? Aye, methinks I hear you say, This we learned along the way, And by the Word of Wisdom guided We have strove to live it true. 24 MASONIC. Then, my brother, it is well; Joys for you no tongue can tell, As ye stand erect and trustful, Waiting for the homeward gale, Where the wavelets kiss the shore Of the sea called " Evermore," Just around Death's jutting headland Waits for you a silver sail. Tolls the bell! and helm in hand, Turns the boatman from the land; Craftsmen, in that homeward passage, W r ho shall be the first to share ? Swift the nimble moments fly! Craftsman, is it you, or I, That within this mystic circle, First shall leave a vacant chair ? Tolls the bell! and muffled feet Tread the city's busy street, With our Three Great Lights in keeping, Borne by one of silver hair. Tolls the bell ! and swings the gate Open to our last estate, And again a Column Broken Stands beside a vacant chair. Other years shall come and go, Leaving only tracks of snow; Yet shall ply that surly boatman Daily to the silent shore. Plumb and (ravel, Robe and Crown, One by one, we lay them down, Pass beyond earth's line of vision, And are seen of men no more. Well, what matter, so we land, Safe upon some better strand ? MASONIC. 25 More or less of time is nothing, If Hope's breezes fill our sail. Poor and naked, weak and blind, Gladly leaving earth behind, Like a homeward child returning Let us pass within the vail. MASONRY-ITS MEANING AND MISSION. READ AT THE ANM AL RF.IMOX OF THK VKTKRANS AT NKW HAVEN, 1879. IF you tell me speech is silver, and that silence it is golden, I shall grant you, yet shall give you but the silver in my rhymes; For though counted but as nothing in the Temple days and olden, Yet we make it " legal tender," in these democratic times. Brothers, look you to the eastward ! far above the azure mountains, Lo! the Genius of our Order sets her bow upon the sky. From beneath its shining archway spring those everliving fountains That have brightened all our valleys with the progress of to-day. Outward from the glowing center, Justice sends the sweet libation Of her even-tempered waters on their purifying way; While the blended streams of Commerce, Science, Art and Education, Bring the offerings of the Nations for our Temple of to-day. 26 MASONIC. See! along the darkened ages, see the footsteps of our Martyrs; How they cut their shining pathways through the jungle of the wrong; Though for sordid thirty pieces, here and there a Judas barters, And the Nazarene is slaughtered, yet the builders move along. For 'tis not by Sign or Signet that the temple wall uprises; These are but the crude expression of a thought that lies within; E'en without them, Men are Masons, if that thought but crystalizes Into lives of loving labor for the brotherhood of men. Names are nothing, forms are nothing; 'tis the Spirit that . controlleth; And the Spirit of our Order is that Love that evermore Hath been living shall be working, till within its ranks enrol leth All the world to own its beauty and its majesty adore. Oh, this Masonry of loving! what a world were this, my brother, If the walls of separation could but once be broken down! So the tender arms of kindness might be cast around each other, And the demons of our nature be forever overthrown. Oh, the Masonry of labor! laying broad and deep foundations For that mighty 'superstructure of some far millennial time; Underneath whose Royal Arches shall be gathered all the Nations, In one Grand Lodge demonstration of the work of the Sublime. MASONIC. Oh, the Masonry of Nations! glorious end of all our labor! Every thought and deed unselfish brings it farther on the way! For, no word can e'er be uttered for our God, or for our neighbor, That shall hang not all its fruitage on our Universal Tree. But, a saddened thought comes o'er me as these well remembered faces Range themselves about our Altar, to revive the sacred flame. Here and there I see before me empty chairs and vacant places, Yet not vacant quite, my brothers, for each bears a cherished name. Whisper us, oh risen ATWELL, if but lawful for revealing, Tell us what may be our chances, when the shining portals swing, As the glories of the morning through the shadows are unveiling, And we stand beneath the Arches of the Temple of the , King. Yet we walk amid the darkness of our nature, blindly groping, With our either hand outstretching for some doorway to the Light, And we turn the roughened Ashlers in the Rubbish, fondly hoping, To fmd amid their number the Key Stone of the right. Yet we have the bright example of one life that was among us, That will guide us, if we follow, to the open gates above If we heed his steady ' counsel ' to forgive the wrongs that wrong us, And to win men into friendship by our Charity and Love. 28 MASONIC. Then, Companions, with our Trowels, let us Labor on together, Spreading evermore the mortar of our kindness as we go; So that when the Gavel falleth, we shall hear the loving- Father Calling upward to refreshment from our Labor here below. TO THE CRAFT. READ AT ANNUAL REUNION OF THK VKTF.RA.NS AT \\II.LIMANTIC, l88