A Masonic Song
Original
A Masonic Song
It happened on a winter night,
And early in the season.
Somebody said my bonny lad
Was gone to be a Mason.
Fal de ral, etc.
I cried and wailed, but nought availed,
He put a forward face on.
And did avow that he was now
A Free Accepted Mason.
Still doubting if the fact was true,
He gave me demonstration;
For out he drew before my view
The Jewels of a Mason.
The Jewels all, both great and small,
I viewed with admiration;
When he set his swage and drew his gauge,
I wondered at my Mason.
So pleased was I to see him ply
The tools of his vocation,
I begged for once he would dispense
And make a Maid a Mason.
Then round and round in mystic ground
He took the middle station,
And with halting pace he reached the place
Where I was made a Mason.
His compass stride he laid it wide,
I thought I guessed the reason.
But his mallet shaft it put me daft;
I longed to be a Mason.
Good plummets strong he downward hung
A noble jolly brace on;
And off a slant his broacher sent
And drove it like a Mason.
Then more and more the light did pour
With bright Illumination,
But when the grip he did me slip
I gloried in my Mason.
But the tempered steel began to fail,
Too soft for the occasion.
It melted lean he drove so keen,
My gallant noble Mason.
What farther passed is here locked fast,
I’m under obligation.
But fill to him, up to the brim,
Can make a Maid a Mason.
Modern English
A Masonic Song
It happened on a winter night,
And early in the season.
Somebody said my bonny lad
Was gone to be a Mason.
Fal de ral, etc.
I cried and wailed, but to no avail,
He put a determined face on.
And did avow that he was now
A Free Accepted Mason.
Still doubting if it was true,
He gave me demonstration;
For out he drew in my view
The Jewels of a Mason.
The Jewels all, both great and small,
I viewed with admiration;
When he set his swage and drew his gauge,
I wondered at my Mason.
So pleased was I to see him ply
The tools of his vocation,
I begged for once he would dispense
And make a Maid a Mason.
Then round and round in mystic ground
He took the middle station,
And with halting pace he reached the place
Where I was made a Mason.
His compass stride he laid it wide,
I thought I guessed the reason.
But his mallet shaft, it drove me daft;
I longed to be a Mason.
Good plummets strong he downward hung
A noble jolly brace on;
And off aslant his broacher sent
And drove it like a Mason.
Then more and more the light did pour
With bright Illumination,
But when the grip he did me slip
I gloried in my Mason.
But the tempered steel began to fail,
Too soft for the occasion.
It melted lean he drove so keen,
My gallant noble Mason.
What further passed is here locked fast,
I’m under obligation.
But fill to him, up to the brim,
Can make a Maid a Mason.