Masonic Education — Shriners hat RSS



The Palace - A Poem By Rudyard Kipling

The Palace By Rudyard Kipling When I was a King and a Mason, a Master Proven and skilled,I cleared me ground for a Palace, such as a King should build.I decreed and dug down to my levels presently, under the silt,I came on the wreck of a Palace, such as a King had built.There was no worth in the fashion there was no wit in the planHither and thither, aimless, the ruined footings ran.Masonry, brute, mishandled, but carven on every stone,After me cometh a Builder tell him I, too, have known.Swift to my use in my trenches, where my well-planned groundworks grew,I tumbled his quoins and his ashlars, and cut and rest them anew.Lime I milled of his marbles burned...

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The Past Master - A Poem

The Past Master  Unknown Author Who's the stranger, Mother, dear? Look, he knows us - ain't that queer? Hush, my son, don't talk so wild -He's your father, dearest child. He's my father? It's not so!Father died six years ago. Dad didn't die, Oh love of mine, He's been going through the line. But he's been Master now so he Has no place to go you see - No place left for him to roam. That is why he is coming home.Kiss him, he won't bite you child. All Past Masters are quite mild.

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The Masonic Ring - A Poem

The Masonic Ring  Those men who help my dad each day, They wear those Mason rings. A Square and Compass set in gold, The praise of which I sing.   My dad, he hurt his back you know, One cold and wintery day. He slipped and fell upon the ice, The insurance would not pay.   And since that time those rings I see, On hands that help us much. With mowing lawns and hauling trash, Each day my heart they touch.   They even built a house for me, Amid our backyard tree. Where all the neighbor kids, Would play with laughter full of glee.   My Mom she cried from happiness, The time the Masons came. To aid our...

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The Lambskin - A Poem by Edgar A. Guest

It is not ornamental, the cost is not great,There are other things far more useful, yet truly I state,Tho of all my possessions, there's none can compare,With that white leather apron, which all Masons wear.As a young lad I wondered just what it all meant,When Dad hustled around, and so much time was spentOn shaving and dressing and looking just right,Until Mother would say: "It's the Masons tonight."

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