I met a dear old man today, who wore a Masonic pin;

It was old and faded like the man its edges were worn and thin.

I approached the park bench where he sat to give the older brother his due;

I said, "I see you've traveled East and 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, Jubilo and Jubilum.

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 adieu.

The work, the sign, the token, the sweet Masonic prayer,

the vow that you have taken, you 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 50 years.

It has helped me through the hardships, and the failures full of tears.

Now, I'm losing my mind and body, and death is maybe near,

but 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 my Masonic Brothers, the only secret is to care,

           

           

           

           

           
 
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