The Living Temple
Rich was the Temple framed of old,
Of Hermon's cedars, lined with gold,
By princely architect of Tyre:
And bright the flames of sun and fire,
Built many an hundred years ago,
In Ind or Western Mexico.
By fabrics formed by human hand,
Though they in noblest grandeur, stand
On lofty pillars, rich and rare.
Of burnished gold, can ne'er compare
With living temples, pure and fine,
Built by the Architect Divine.
Let us, who live in latter days,
To God a nobler temple raise,
With cornerstone deep laid in youth.
While knowledge, temperance and truth,
In all their fair proportion bind
That noble temple of the mind.
Let fortitude the basis be
And high resolve the plethory
The stones shall be of reason's proof,
Celestial love shall form the roof,
And prudence at the threshold stay
To drive each vagrant guest away.
Within shall seven pillars shine,
The purest product of the mine
Religion, honor, gratitude,
Nor shall the moon and stars by night
Withhold their kind and needful light,
That your work may be finished here
When the Grand Master shall appear.
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