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Ashlar Home > Poems > Rob Morris > Quarry, Hill and Temple

Quarry, Hill and Temple

By Rob Morris

Thine in the Quarry, whence the stone
For mystic workmanship is drawn
On Jordan's shore,
By Zarthan's plain,
Though faint and weary, thine alone.
The gloomy mine knows not a ray,
The heavy toil exhausts the day,
But love keeps bright
The weary heart,
And sings, I'm thine without decay.

Thine on the Hill, whose cedars rear
Their perfect forms and foliage fair
Each graceful shaft
And deathless leaf
Of Masons' love the emblems are
Thine when a smile pervades the heaven,
Thine when the sky's with thunder riven.
Each echo swells
Through answering hills,
My Mason prayer, for thee 'tis given.

Thine in the Temple, holy place,
Where silence reigns, the type of peace
With grip and sign,
And mystic line,
My Mason's friendship I confess.
Each block we raise, that friendship grows,
Cemented firmly ne'er to loose
And when complete,
The work we greet,
Thine in the joy my bosom knows.

Thine at the midnight in the cave
Thine in the floats upon the wave,
By Joppa's hill,
By Kedron's rill,
And thine when Sabbath rest we have.
Yes, yes, dear friend, my spirit saith:
I'm thine until and after death!
No bounds control
The Mason's soul
Cemented with the Mason's faith.
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