The poem
(This fine poem is given by Goethe amongst a small collection of what he calls Loge (Lodge), meaning thereby Masonic pieces.)
THE mason's trade Observe them well,
Resembles life, And watch them revealing
With all its strife,-- How solemn feeling Is like the stir made And wonderment swell
By man on earth's face. The hearts of the brave.
Though weal and woe The voice of the blest,
The future may hide, And of spirits on high
Unterrified Seems loudly to cry: We onward go "To do what is best,
In ne'er changing race. Unceasing endeavour!
A veil of dread "In silence eterne
Hangs heavier still. Here chaplets are twin'd,
Deep slumbers fill That each noble mind The stars over-head, Its guerdon may earn.--
And the foot-trodden grave. Then hope ye for ever!"
1827.*