The Lambskin Apron

It is not ornamental, the cost is not great, There are things far more useful yet truly I state, That of all my possessions, there's none to compare With the white leather apron that all Masons wear. As a young lad I wondered just what it all meant When Dad hustled round and so much time was spent On shaving and dressing and looking just right Until Mother would say, It's the Masons tonight. Then some nights she'd say What makes you go Away up there tonight in the sleet and the snow You see the same things every month of the year. And Dad would reply, Yes I know it my dear. For years I have seen the same things it is true, And tho' they are old, still they seem new, For the hands that I clasp, and the friends that I greet Seem a little bit closer each time we meet Years later I stood at that very same door, With good men and true, who had entered before. I kneeled at the altar, and there I was taught That virtue and honour can never be bought. That the spotless white lambskin, all Masons revere If worthily worn grows more precious each year. That service to others brings blessings untold That men may be poor, tho' surrounded by gold. I learned that true brotherhood flourishes there, That enmities fade 'neath the compasses and square, That wealth and position are all thrust aside, As there on the level men meet and abide. So, honour the lambskin and may it remain Forever unblemished and free from all stain, And when we are called to the great Father's love, May we all take our place, in the Grand Lodge above