By Frank W. Reed1917
When back we look upon the darksome way
From which we traveled with uncertain mind,
The selfsame mystic monsters do we find
Still making dolts their arrogance obey.
Confusing craftiness seeking to dismay
Each forward thought their mental eyes to blind,
Enthroned deceit yells curses from behind,
And preaches hell to crutch its dying sway.
But when at last the will asserts its force,
And gains release from shackles long endured,
The phantom doubt dissolves in dawning light
And from on high, where freedom gets its source,
A soul, newborn, of future life assured,
Finds God is love in each Masonic Rite.
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