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Ashlar Home > Poems > Rob Morris > The Teacher to His Pupils

The Teacher to His Pupils

By Rob Morris

From the hills of old Virginia, from the meadows fat and rare,
From the banks of broad Ohio, and of others broad and fair,
From the borders of our neighboring states, true neighbors each they stand,
You have come responsive, Brothers, and have gripped me by the hand.

You have brought me words of greeting, words I never can forget
Have given me light my eyes will see till life's poor sun has set
You have told with signs significant, your messages so true,
And now, at parting, one kind word I offer, Friends, to you.

A goodly group around us! the thoughtful air of Greene
The cheerful gaze of Webster, and Williams' modest mien,
The chivalry of Bullock, that courteous look and how,
The sterling sense, the honest voice, the gentleness of Howe.

These are the types of all who've sat unwearied 'neath the voice
That told of Masons' labors and of Masons' well earned joys
Deep in the souls of these have sunk the unchangeable and true,
The mighty Covenants that bind, dear Brothers, me and you.

Here, too, those welcome lights have shone, ay, welcome as the sun,
Whose fame as skillful builders has in distant lands been won
The veterans, Penn and Norris, Tracey, vigilant and leal,
And Hunt, the genial-hearted, and Bayless, true as steel.

To all who work as these work, to all who love like them,
To all who build as they build the New Jerusalem,
Be wages such as they shall have, when, standing in the West,
They hear the Master call them, Come, ye faithful, to your rest.

True, zealous, loving men! on this tempestuous, rocky shore
I may not meet ah, sad to think not meet or greet you more
Each day speaks louder in my ears the uncertainties of time,
And death amidst life's music louder peals his solemn chime.

Then each Farewell! bear homeward Light our fathers well approved,
Set up the Pillars, rear the walls 'twas work our fathers loved
Time will your fond devotion to unending ages tell
God will o'ersee and bless you! Brothers, faithfully, farewell!


The National Masonic School of Instruction, at Louisville, Kentucky, May, 1859, was a scene of great interest to the participants. The assemblage was large and enthusiastic, representing many portions of the country. The writer, as President, made the following his Valedictory of the School:
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