Table of Contents
Now that the summer days are past,
The call to Labor comes at last,
And parted brothers, in the Fall,
Assemble for the Lodge roll-call.
Once more the gavel sounds the cue
For friends and brothers, tried and true,
To meet on Level, Plumb and Square —
Their joys and sorrows each to share.
O, brothers of the Mystic Tie,
So many tasks before us lie
Ere war and strife on earth doth cease
And Brotherhood brings joy and peace.
So let us labor — let us strive
To keep our Mason's way alive;
Ours is the duty — ours the right
To help shed darkness, spread the Light!
The Lodge Altar
'Round Thy sacred altar, now,
Do Thy children humbly bow;
Rev'rently they gather there:
Awed and silent in their prayer;
Grateful for Thy blessed Light,
Shining through the darkened night,
Teaching Brotherhood to men
That all strife may cease again,
And, upon this earthly sod,
Men may always turn to God!
The Lodge Where I Belong
Though my Lodge may lack the splendour
Of a Temple or a Shrine,
Or possess the gaudy fixtures
That are classed as superfine,
Yet the fellowship it offers
Is in price beyond compare.
And I wouldn't trade it ever
For life's treasures, rich or fair!
The hand-clasp firm, the word of cheer,
Oh, such meanings they impart,
The mystic ties of brotherhood
That links us heart to heart!
You'd really have to travel far,
For friendships quite so strong
As those one always finds right here
In the lodge where I belong.
When all my earthly travels end,
And at last I'm borne to rest
Where mortals hands no longer toil
And I cease life's endless quest
Why there's nothing I'd like better
Should I join the heavenly throng
Than to meet with all the brothers
Of the lodge where I belong.
Bread Upon The Waters
I took a brother by the hand;
I spoke a word of cheer;
It gave him strength, renewed his hope,
And helped to banish fear.
How passing strange is life, my friend,
For as the years sped by
I, too, was faced with dark despair
And life held but a sigh.
My friend now took me by the hand,
And whispered words of cheer —
The same soul-lifting words I spoke
To him, another year.
'Twas then I knew the bread I'd cast,
As in the Scriptures told,
Upon the waters had returned
To bless me now, two-fold!
A Thanksgiving Prayer
Oh, Lord, now this we're thankful for:
The good things life has held in store;
The love of those within our home,
And friends to greet wherever we roam;
The health and strength wherewith to toil,
The bounteous food from freedom's soil;
We thank Thee for the right to pray
And worship Thee in our own way;
To live within a land that's free;
For this, dear Lord, our thanks to Thee;
And through these blessings, one by one,
May Thy will, Lord, on earth be done!
Unto The Least
The beggar's hand stretched forth in silent plea:
I turned away, nor did I care to see;
So busy was I with my own affairs,
I gave no thought to other people's cares.
That night I dreamed a vision of the Cross,
And of the Christ whose death was mankind's loss;
His dying lips moved—plainly could I see
"Who gives unto the least, gives unto Me."
Next day I hurried to the public square;
The ragged beggar still stood mutely there.
I gave him coin as quickly by I trod,
Then, turning, recognized the face of God.
(These poems were picked up from http://www.masonicworld.com/education/files/POEMS.htm)
Herrmann was a Past Master and lived in New York City.
He was author of at least 2 books:
Designs Upon The Trestleboard: A Guide Book For Masters And Wardens (1947,1957)
The Secretary's Book: A Manual For Masonic Lodge Secretaries (19??)