The Public Grand Honors
By Rob Morris
Bear on your souls, dear friends, the blest departed
Engrave on memory his beloved name
Gone to his wages, gone, the faithful-hearted,
Write on heart tablets his deserved fame,
His spotless truth, his boundless charity,
His trust in God, his love for Masonry.
Look to the Lodge floor where he now is walking!
Angel and spirit, he is clothed in white
Hark, of what mysteries he now is talking
Too bright, too dazzling for our mortal sight!
There his undying nature has its rest,
In the communion of the good and blest.
Honor the grave, honor the open earth,
Honor the body that we give to clay
'Twas an immortal structure from its birth,
And it shall have its resurrection day
Tenderly give to mother earth the prize,
And let her keep it till God bid it rise.
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