GEMS OF MASONIC THOUGHT An anthology of verse contributed by Members of the Circle FOREWORD by W.Bro. R. A. L. Harland, P.M., Lodge No. 1679. President of the Circle. Freemasonry today is awakening to the great value of its own peculiar treasure of thought and word; on all sides there are signs that it is on the verge of entering into a Kingdom of research of such breadth and fertility as it has perhaps never before known. It is as though the Masonic world were undergoing a spiritual revitalisation, spurring it on to experience a fuller measure of Brotherly Love, Relief and Truth. At such a time, then, I deem it propitious to send out this small anthology of what has been already accomplished by members of this Circle in the way of poetic expression of Masonic mystic themes and teaching. I would emphasise that the secret of the inmost sanctuary is not in danger of profanation, since none but those who enter into that sacred shrine can understand it, and those even who penetrate to the Centre find, on passing out again, that there lips are sealed by the sheer insufficiency of language as a medium for conveying the sense of their supreme adventure. Indeed, the speech of every day has no terms for what is seen and known, and least of all can we hope for adequate definitions through the phrases and apparatus of logical reasoning. By the rhythm of their verse, by its quality of suggesting infinitely more than is directly said, the contributors to this anthology have striven to give what hints they may of the Reality eternally underlying all things. And it is precisely through the rhythm and high enchantment of their writing that we may catch fitful gleams from the Light from above which is supernal. The authors of these intimations desire to remain anonymous, but I merely echo the sentiments of many of their Brethren and fellows when I convey our grateful thanks to them for work well and truly done. THE DORMER. The Dormer, the window that gave light to the same." Masonic Ritual. Pray brethren, pause ye here awhile, during the search and quest Stay and become the square white stones, forming the pavement blest For far above, the Light shines down, piercing the dormer wide, Shines down, and warms the paving stones, laid down on every side. Here may we pause and gather, in the light from Him above, Absorbing in our very souls, the blessed Truth and Love Of Him, the World's Great Architect, the Highest Heavenly King, To Whom the myriad angels bow; and praises ever sing! Let us absorb the Light which here, offers, like Holy Graal, To show the Way our feet must tread, the Way that cannot fail To lead us, onward, upward, toward the Holy Height; Our feet are safe upon the Path, this is the Path of Light In chancels mystical as this, in temples such as these, Bound with the firm cement of Love, in great Fraternities, We will become the Living Stones, forming the walls and roof Mayhap, some stones, the Dormer frame, their wisdom giving proof. Whereer we be, in pavement wide, in wall, in step, in choir, The Light will shine upon us all, one Holy Living Fire ! And we, adoring, will reflect, in countless shining rays The rainbow hues of the Great Arch, Wisdom and Beauty raise SECRETS. We seek for genuine secrets that were lost Which time or circumstance may yet restore While some there be prepared to count the cost Too few persist to reach the Central Core. This Centre, which we seek, is whence we came, Also the goal to which we turn our eyes By yearning towards the Sacred Mystic Name In manner which is known to all the wise. The Centre reached, the secrets too are found, It is a point from which we cannot stray, No need remains for us to look around Full near at hand it is, not far away. Circumference nowhere, everywhere the Centre The door is there for all who will to enter. THE WINDING STAIR. Upon the Winding Stairway to the Centre, Each Mason has his own peculiar place, And so that each may earn his right to enter He has tremendous difficulties to face. The Mystic Way is hard, but all must try, To turn the ashlar rough to living stone, Hand, also head and heart to purity ; A work that must be carried out alone. Upon the stair we stretch our hand behind To help the backward brother on his way, But looking upward those in front we find, Prepare to shed on us a helping ray. Thus every soul is bound to every other And earns the privilege to call him " Brother." REGENERATION. Regenerated man is the ideal, If world affairs are ever to improve, To work together for the common weal Impels us to forsake the selfish groove. The way of rebirth leads to righteousness, And all our baser parts must forthwith die; Self must be purged of every sin's duress Before heaven's realm is realised as nigh. This lesson has been taught throughout the ages, In myth and parable of every clime, It is th'embodied wisdom of the sages And still remains appropriate to our time. What learn we from Hirams' assassination ? Through figured death we gain regeneration. UNION. There is but One, to Whom we all will come, And, in accord with what has gone before, Will join with Him in Union; in His good time And some there've been, who ill this Union Blest Have found their Term of Quest, here, on this earth Whilst others, searching and groping in the dark of light, Have yet to And the Path, that onwards leads to Light. If those of us, who, groping thus in darkness visible Were but to raise our eyes in loving wonder To that Bright Star, which rising in the East, Brings Life and Comfort, Love and Truth to all Then would the Way be manifestly clear: No need to stumble, nor to turn aside After cimmerean lights, so like to those of marshland, Which led to quaking bog, or mournful pond Nay rather, seeing clearly well the Way, Passing each Veil of Wonder, Royal Arch, and Rosy Cross, We reach, at last, the bourne of all our wand'rings, And with the Star, effect the Union Blest. OUR PERSONAL TEMPLE. The Master hidden in the heart of man Ceaselessly waits his chance to manifest If on our temple gates we place a ban Whate'er we miss is at our own behest. "Behold I stand at each one's door and knock, I wait to show each one the better way. But if the gates at East, North, South you lock, No light can come to turn your night to day." "I cannot give you light against your will; Nor aid you if you do not train your mind, If, too, those fake desires you do not kill My needed help to live you'll never find." Open the Gates! It is our bounden duty To gain access to Wisdom, Strength, and Beauty. HASTEN SLOWLY. You may be a member of Lodges and Chapters, Preceptories, Conclaves, and all of the rest, Yet not have the knowledge, the faith and good purpose With which the new 'Craftsman' will start on his quest In search of the secrets of 'Nature and Science,' The Worshipful Master advises that you Should extend your researches therein, but so rarely That 'Master' can help, by providing the clue. Injunctions embodied in rituals recited Are seldom regarded as anything more Than fine sounding phrases which, though very lovely, Can hardly interpret the 'Great Moral Law.' If Brethren all would make daily advancement In knowledge, masonic, the Charge emphasised, How much more effectively labours, as masons In building 'The Temple,' would be realised, To point an objective, to have an ideal Is so vital, to work out 'The Plan,' Which the Great Architect, in His Wisdom and Love Has set out for the welfare of man. This can only be done, by completing each stage And squaring each stone to perfection, That, when all are assembled, there never can be A Stone for 'The Builders' rejection. So you who are members of Lodges and Chapters, Preceptories, Conclaves, and all of the rest, Be thoroughly sure that your labours as Masons Show no signs of weakness, when put to the test. Bear in mind that your promises and 'Obligations' Are all entered up in the goat Book of Life, Your victories, failures, defeats and successes Are also recorded, for out of the strife Is decided the progress, which you, as Freemasons, Have actually made in your search in the 'West' For that Regeneration, that Peace and At-onement You sought, since you first started out on ' Your Quest.' THE HIDDEN MAN OF THE HEART. Truth is within ourselves," the poet writes, The Sacred Law says heaven is within, Our duty is to climb to lofty heights, Nor damp th' imprisoned spark by mortal sin. Hid in our heart it seeks to shed around Its light to cheer all others on the way, But if no perfect instruments be found, How can it strive to turn their night to day ? The tools required are head, and hand, and heart, Will, intellect and feelings purified, If on this work we never try to start 'Twas all the same our Master never died. Our hidden Hiram waits his resurrection Till all our several parts take right direction. THE HOUSE NOT MADE WITH HANDS. Th'eternal house in heaven not made with hands- The Temple of the Living God most High- Is built of living stones from many lands In silence crown with scarce an earthly tie. No barriers of race, creed, church, or caste Disturb the peace of that Grand Lodge above- The evil bane of serving self is past In atmosphere of Universal Love. Th'Apprentice, Fellowcraft, and Master true, Their ashlars rough convert to perfect square, Then ever set themselves to strive anew To give them life full meet to enter there. All that within that loving circle enter Are radii with God the common Centre. INDIVIDUALLY AND COLLECTIVELY. What is the standard of your lodge? Can you display with pride The best for which the 'Craft' should stand? Or do you wish to hide All those defects which, in your heart, you know should have no place In Masonry ? But which destroy the soul of every race. The farce of ceremonial performed for self-esteem, And lacking attributes by which the Candidate may gleam The knowledge of our Mystic-art, the road that may be trod Towards regeneration, the way that leads to God. What great responsibility, what penalties are yours For letting down Freemasonry, within and out of doors. The conduct of the Banquet-board, the standard you should set In proposition and reply to toasts, so don't forget The future of the Candidate may suffer if you fail To keep away from topics we should keep outside the pale. Those doubtful entertainers, who may cancel out the good Of what was done within the Lodge, which every brother should By his example, strive to lift up to the greatest height, Toward the goal of " Mastership," where can be seen the light Of that great bright and Morning-star, that symbol and our guide Which leads us to the - "perfect lodge," when we can dwell with pride. The Temple of Humanity, the Brotherhood of man Within the Father-hood of God, which since the World began Has been the aim and object, by which all men of goodwill Have striven ever upwards, toward the Sacred Hill Whereon is "New Jerusalem," That City built foursquare, Where will return Emanuel, and peace reign evermore. So raise the standard of your Lodge, that you can see with pride The influence exerted there by all who are inside, To diffuse the light of wisdom, make all men free again, Then your labours as Freemasons here, will not have been in vain. THE CRAFTSMAN'S TEMPLE. An ancient temple spread abroad its fame; 'Twas flanked by two Great Pillars at the porch, For us today each has a secret name, And what they mean doth serve us as a torch. To practise virtue and to conquer fear Are tasks to which apprentices are pledged, In virtue's strength their first column they rear And persevere till they be fully fledged. Each Craftsman then must learn to use his mind, And balance virtue with much knowledge new And if towards hidden mysteries he's inclined, On stable base no danger can ensue. 'Stablished in Strength his House will stand for ever, Continuing so, must be his prime endeavour. THE QUEST. I entered poor and penniless; I laboured through the night, For in my heart was great desire that I might see the light, I worked through my Apprenticeship, a Fellow I became, And then 'a Master,' 'till Installed, The Master," I, in name. What did my mastership portend? What powers then were mine? What had I conquered? What subdued? I failed to see the sign Which satisfied my inner heart: Yet I was ever sure That could I know my own true sell, for ever I'd endure. I searched among the ruins, where I had tried to build, Until, in superconsciousness, I found the truth revealed The sum of great experience, expressed in me, as man: And I must go on building up 'The Temple,' span by span, Until, like Royal Solomon, I raise my hands in awe And wonderment, for I can see the working of the Law Of Living on the Level, of Acting on The Square, Of Keeping to the Plumbrule, to find the answer there, Within the great Circumference. The Centre, Love Divine, Where I shall 'take my Last Degree'; At-onement shall be mine. SACRAMENTUM REGIS. A Mystical Dream. Those in the outer courts, expectant, weary, worn, Awaiting for they know not what; a sign, or portent strong Fasten their eyes expectantly upon the Curtain wide, Faint shimmers of Thy Glory show, Shekinah hid inside The essences and fragrance, from thuribles fume up, And fill the air with wonder, faint foretaste of the Cup. The Hallows and the Holy Place, in silence stand beclouded. The Cloud still hides the Sanctuary, but praises ever lauded Are heard by multitudes without, who wait upon the Word. The Word not utter'd, yet Still Small Voice sometimes by ear is heard. And when th'appointed time is set, and, when the Curtain parts, What glories and what ecstasies, will enter faithful hearts Then, glorifi'd, and lovely, the jewell'd Grail will pour Libations, and all blessings, upon Thy people Lord ! Oh! Glory and rejoicing! No longer will we wait, The Word has come among us! Gone is all fear and hate Gone too, the mundane terrors, disease and death have fled The Rose hath op'd her petals, for us the Christ hath bled In glorious apparel, in samite and in blue, The waiting throng sink kneeling, in wonder at the True. The True and Real, the Only, the All in All is here, Only the eyes of Spirit, may gaze on sight so fair; The Wonders of the Curtain, the Arch of gorgeous hue Which stretches in the heavens, displacing the sky's blue. On this the great occasion, may we, in clothing bright, Be ready on Thy calling, to Thee the Source of Light! Severity and Mercy, the Pillars on the side, Uphold the Arch of Splendour-the opening is wide The multitude enthraled, will enter in the Way, Oh! Glorious the faces, Oh! Love of God, the Day Peasant and Prince, and Prelate, people of every clime Will join in loud Hosannas, proclaiming wide, God's Time! WHAT IS YOUR RANK AS A MASON ? What is your rank as a 'Mason ? In the Craft have you really progressed In the science of man? His relation to God Your regalia seems to suggest ? Or are you just one of the 'word-perfect' kind The pride of the 'Lodge of Instruction,' Where words are just symbols, whose meaning is lost In the process of mass reproduction ? Would you search for the key which would unlock the door To the knowledge these symbols conceal, So that you could impart to the Candidate's mind, The message you ought to reveal ? Have the glories of Office, the glamour of Rank, The vanities of adulation Caused you to forget the teachings contained In each of your own obligations ? If Freemasonry then has no greater appeal To insist that you pause and take stock, Your time has been wasted, you've perjured yourself, Your ship has been cast on the rock. But if in your heart you've reviewed things afresh And apply yourself to the Great Science, Then you have become a Brother in whom, Freemasons can place great reliance. THREE TEMPLES. In three concentred spheres lies Hiram hid, The Universe, the Lodge, the heart of man And could we from ourselves all trammels rid, To visions splendid there would be no ban. These three are one in symbol as in fact- Each has a Blazing Star, or Central Glory, Which could we show forth in our every act Our lives would tell a vastly different story. Our sight of symbols deep is often dimmed, By seeing as to must through Time and Space, These veils prevent the truth from being limned, And hide from us the beauty of its face. Truth in its fullness bides within our Centre, Each temple is our Self for us to enter. DEDICATED MEN. Clothed we range in each Degree, Standing erect, and inward turned To practice what our forebears learned, The Mystic Art of Masonry. Form we the Lodge in semblance fair, And to our Purpose dedicate, Immune awhile from fear and hate, For here - we breathe a purer air. Freed from the world's distracting din, The stress and strain of daily Life, Thus may the act which stills the strife Close-tyle our hearth'gainst foes within. By compass point and plumb and line, We trace the path we fain would tread Blinded, with halting steps, but led By Thee, O Architect Divine. Humbly our Gentle Art we ply; Craftsmen in living stone are we; Ourselves, the Ashlars yet to be Modelled in praise of God Most High. What though our guiding Light be Dim- Assisted by that glimmering ray We stumble up the Winding Way That leads through darkness, back to Him. Then let us laud with speech and pen, The power of symbol and of rite, To arm against the world's despite For we are Dedicated Men. ANNO X. "Sursum Corda Lift up your hearts! Oh, Brethren hear the call! The ever shining Light, the glory of the All, Shines through the living Dormer. Refulgence beautiful! The rays divine Sparkle on apse, on nave, on chancel line. Our eyes of spirit gaze upon the whole Great Temple of the One, the all-embracing Soul. Built by the lives of those who've gone before, Who, whate'er their present rank, once wore Aprons of Master Masons. Working with Love upon the living stones This Temple rearid, whose bells echo the tones The music of the spheres ! The Dormer, way for light upon the G. Great Symbol of the One, to Whom all We Bow down in worship. Here on this earth, in symbol, has been form'd Through ten long years, our Dormer, which has warm'd Our inner spirits by its rays of light. Let us give thanks, and lift our hearts in praise To Him, Who, in His wondrous ways Hath given us our Dormer. TO A CANDIDATE. Thy knocks have sounded on the door, Thy feet have stepp'd upon the floor; May thy request obtain the whole Full answer, for thy questing soul. THE LOST STONE. The Stone is lost ! - Mislaid amid the rubble; My work rejected, by those that know Thee not! All of my work, long spent in loving trouble Seems nout but only rubbish ! Hard my lot! Great O'erseer - Of Thy loving kindness, Teach me the Way, and so grant me my plea Direct my senses, out of all their blindness, So that they find the Stone, the Way to Thee! The Stone is found! - Set it within the building! High in the Arch, framing Thy temple here. Thanks be to Thee! My loving Master Builder, Make sure my feet, the Way is thus made clear. All praises mighty Architect and Holy King! Accept my humble prayer, thus symbolized in stone; Grant to Thy workers, who, with me, do sing Sweet psalms, and, in Thy Love, our sins atone. THE HIDDEN HIRAM. Immured within his tomb - our hardened heart - Hiram is slain by level, plumb and maul, Till by the secrets of our mystic art He can be touched to life by Wisdom's call. Misuse of these three tools this loss has brought, And shut the gates at east, and south and north When we have purified our life and thought, Then and then only, can we say " Come forth!" Much aid we need to bring the dead to life, To shed the hidden light o'er all our being, The way of earth is dark and full of strife, But he the masterlight of all our seeing. In trance-like state we wait the consummation Of Raising by the Master's evocation.