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Ashlar Home > Poems > L. B. M. > Acrostic

Acrostic

By L. B. M.

1916
G rander than the lines that Pythagoras drew,
E ngraved on the hearts that ever are true,
O nward and beyond the science it ran, -
M asonry, the nature religion of man.
E nter thy temple, sweet spirit, and there
T ry us by compasses, level and square.
R ightly interpreting our mystical art
Y ou can speculate on with happy heart.
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