exhibits Friendship toward all man kind:  For he who is placed on the lowest spoke of     fortune's wheel may be entitled to regard, and no one knows how soon the Grand Leveler of human greatness will reduce all to the same state.

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 wintry day.
He slipped on 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 family in distress,
Without a thought of gain.

And when I'm big, just like my Dad,
Of this it must be told.
I want to wear a ring like his,
A Square and Compass gold.

Long years have passed since when,
My Dad was in that plaster cast.
And since I swore that Solemn Oath,
Which unites us to the last.

But more than that I'm proud to say,
I wear his Mason ring.
The one Dad wore for many years,
Until his death this spring.

And one last time his comrades came,
To aid my weeping Mother.
They praised and bid a fond farewell,
To our fallen Brother.

And after which my Son did ask,
About their Aprons white.
And the rings upon their hands,
Of gold so shiny bright.

With tearful eyes I said with pride,
They're men of spirit pure.
Those men who wear those Mason rings,
Of that you can be sure.

And before he went to bed that night,
The family he foretold.
Someday I'll wear a ring like Dad's
A Square and Compass gold.

Author: Unknown

"Old Masters Wages"
by Author Unknown

I met a dear old man today
Who wore a Masonic pin
It was old and faded like the man
Its edges were worn quite thin.

I approached the park bench where he sat
To give the old Brother his due.
I said, "I see you've traveled East."
He said, "I have, have you?"

I said, "I have and in my day
Before the all seeing sun
I played in the rubble with Jubala
Jubalo and Jubalum."

He shouted, "Don't laugh at the work my son
It's good and sweet and true
And if you've traveled as you said
You should give these things their due."

"The Word, the Sign, the Token,
The sweet Masonic prayer,
The vow that all have taken
Who have climbed the inner stair."

"The wages of a Mason
Are never paid in gold
But the gain comes from contentment
When you're weak and growing old."

"You see I've carried my obligations
For almost fifty years.
It has helped me through the hardships
And failures full of tears."

"Now I'm losing my mind and my body.
Death is near but I don't despair.
I've lived my life upon the level
And I'm dying upon the square."

Sometimes the greatest lessons
Are those that are learned anew
And the old man in the park today
Has changed my point of view.

To all Masonic Brothers
The only secret is to care.
May you live upon the level.
May you part upon the square.

THE LAMBSKIN
Here is a poem from Brother Alex Ferguson Via Russell Wagner
 

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 spent,
On shaving and dressing and looking just right,
Until Mother would say; "It’s the Masons tonight".

And some winter nights she said; "What makes you go,
Way up there tonight thru’ the sleet and the snow,
You see the same things every month of the year".
Then Dad would reply; "Yes, I know it, my dear".

"Forty years I have seen the same things it’s true,
And though they are old, they always seem new,
For the hands that I clasp, and the friends that I greet,
Seem a little bit closer, each time that we meet".

Years later I stood at that very same door,
With good men and true, who had entered before.
I knelt at the alter and there I was taught,
That virtue and honor can never be bought.

That the spotless white Lambskin all Masons revere,
If worthily worn, grows more precious each year.
That service to others brings blessings untold
That man may be poor, though surrounded by gold.

I learned that true Brotherhood flourishes there,
That enmities fade ‘neath the Compass and Square.
That wealth and position are all thrust aside,
As there on the level, men meet and abide.

So honor the Lambskin, may it always remain,
Forever unblemished and free from all stain.
And when we are called to the great Fathers love,
May we all take our place in that Lodge up above.

Lord's Prayer Masonic Tracing Board

Credit to Steilacoom Lodge #2's website.