THE JUNIOR WARDEN'S SONG.

[Bro. J. E. CARPENTER, P.M.]

The junior warden calls

The Masons from their labour,
And each is free

To join with me,

And drink unto his neighbour.
Fill the glass,

Let it pass,

Beaming with a temperate glow,
Till the clocks

And the knocks

Tell us it is time to go!

The sun in heaven's high arch
Beams somewhere or another,
For, though 'tis night,
We know his light

Sets never on a brother.

Fill the glass, &c.

And though we work by rule,
All work would be but folly.
A time for play
Comes every day,

And we may now be jolly!

We know no civil broils

Fill the glass, &c.

To mar our social greetings,
The mason kicks

All politics

Away from all his meetings.

Fill the glass, &c.

And ere we part to night,
No Mason here afraid is
To drink the toast

He loves the most,

So, here's unto the ladies!

Fill the glass, &c.

Should any fair one ask

Our secrets, her we'll bow to,
A Mason's zeal

Her lips will seal,

The best way he knows how to.

And if she's wiser then,

Fill the glass, &c.

This fact her mind will dwell in,

A Mason proves

To her he loves

There is no "kiss and telling."

Fill the glass, &c.

Then here's a health to all

Who're in this circle seated;

May all meet here

For many a year,

To hear this song repeated.

Fill the glass, &c.

INSTALLATION SONG.

[Bro. J. E. CARPENTER, P.M.]

Our lodge it is squared,
And our master is chair'd,

Let us hail him once more in his station;
Now the banquet is stored,
And the wine it is pour'd,
To do honour to his installation.

An apprentice at first

In the craft he was nursed,

And taught in morality's college,
That the best way to rise,

Was to, early, be wise,

And that truth was the right road to knowledge.

As fellow craft, too,
Soon his wages he drew,

By experience put a good face on;
His progress was praised,

And thus he got raised,

And turn'd out a good master Mason.

Your warden he's been

Where he ever was seen,

At home in the west every meeting;
The level display'd,-
How well he obey'd

Every sign, every summons and greeting.

And now the reward
That past labours afford,

IIe has gain'd, and how few gain it faster!
Thus all brothers who please,

May get on-by degrees,

And in time may become a past master.

May he long live to grace
His position and place,

Doing honour to his exaltation;
And we'll ne'er rue the day
That we vow'd to obey

And to celebrate his installation.

THE TRUTHS OF MASONRY.
[Bro. J. E. CARPENTER, P.M.]

When first I hail'd the sacred craft,
I knew no cheering ray

To guide me through life's mazy path
Or warn me on my way;
A pilgrim through the realm of gloom
With careless steps I pass'd,

And little cared I for my doom,
Till light was o'er me cast.

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THE BOOK OF POPULAR SONGS.

I stood alone and friendless there,
And helpless as a child,

A wanderer on an alien shore,
Forsaken and reviled.
A lonely lot I often knew,
But lonelier felt I then,

Till found I Masons, brothers too,
And found those brothers-men!

The mystic veil was drawn aside,
And to my view display'd
The symbols that true Masons guide,
That precepts wise pervade.
And never since that blessed dawn

Of sacred light to me,

Did e'er I seek to slight or scorn

The truths of Masonry.

INDEX.

PATRIOTIC SONGS.

Dear old mother England

Fill a goblet, merry folk

Hail to thee, England!-blest isle of the ocean
Here's a health to old honest John Bull

I love my little native isle

Land of the loyal and isle of the free

My ancestors were Englishmen, and Englishman am I

Rouse, ye lovers of peace and of order
The sailor boasts his stately ship...

The peasantry of England

There's a good time coming, boys

...

The merry bells of England, how I love to hear them sound 148
Where is the Briton's home?

...

When Vulcan forged the bolts of Jove

When mighty roast beef was the Englishman's food

NAVAL AND MILITARY.

A life on the ocean wave

Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear

Cheer, boys, cheer! no more of idle sorrow

Come, cheer up, my lads! 'tis to glory we steer
Fill up, fill up your mystic fires...

Far, far upon the sea

He comes from wars, from the red field of fight
How gallantly, how merrily...

Jack Steadfast and I were both messmates at sea...
Loud roar'd the dreadful thunder

List! list to the storm! see the dark frowning sky
March to the battle-field

No fish stir in our evening net
On Linden, when the sun was low
Peaceful slumb'ring on the ocean
Soldier, wake-the day is peeping
Stand to your guns, my hearts of oak
See you beneath yon cloud so dark
The moonbeams cast a holy light

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