(This fine poem is given by Goethe amongst a
small collection of what he calls Loge (Lodge), meaning thereby
Masonic pieces.)
THE mason's trade
Observe them well,
Resembles life, And
watch them revealing
With all its strife,-- How
solemn feeling
Is like the stir made And
wonderment swell
By man on earth's face. The
hearts of the brave.
Though weal and woe The
voice of the blest,
The future may hide, And
of spirits on high
Unterrified Seems
loudly to cry:
We onward go
"To do what is best,
In ne'er changing race. Unceasing
endeavour!
A veil of dread
"In silence eterne
Hangs heavier still. Here
chaplets are twin'd,
Deep slumbers fill
That each noble mind
The stars over-head, Its
guerdon may earn.--
And the foot-trodden grave.
Then hope ye for ever!"
1827.*
