By Montford C. Holley
The gavel sounds and all is still:
The Master speaks, proclaims his will:
Each one obeys, takes up his tools.
Inspects the plan, consults the rules:
With trowel and level, plumb and square,
Each stone is set exactly where
The plan provides, the drawing shows
And day by day, the Temple grows:
The porch is finished, pillars placed
The strands of net-work, interlaced
The chambers furnished, pavement laid,
The sacred vessels all displayed:
The walls are standing, straight and true
The roof is on, the labor through:
The Master speaks, The work is done:
The gavel sounds, God calls us home.
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