The Old Masters Wages
I met a dear old man today who wore a Masonic Pin It was old and faded, like the man, its edges worn and thin I approached the park bench where he sat to give the Old 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 setting sun I played in the rubble with Jubala, Jubilo and Jubalum He shouted, “Don’t laugh at the Work my son, It’s good, sweet and true And if you’ve traveled as you said, you should give these things their due. The Work the Sign the Token, the Sweet Masonic Prayer The Vow that you have taken when you climbed the inner stair The Wages of a Mason are never paid on Gold But the gain comes from the 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— Death is near but I don’t despair I’ve lived my life upon the level and I’m dying on 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, MAY YOU LIVE UPON THE LEVEL & PART UPON THE SQUARE This poem was created by M.W. Bro. Neil Neddermeyer, Past Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Minnesota and publisher of the Masonic Newsletter “Cinosam” We owe him a debt of thanks for allowing us to share it with him.