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WHEN ADAM DELVED AND EVE SPAN,
[DIBDIN.] Tom Tackle was noble—was true to his word,– If merit bought titles, Tom might be a lord; How gaily his bark through life's ocean would sail! Truth furnish'd the rigging, and honour the gale. Yet Tom had a failing, if ever man had, That, good as he was, made him all that was bad,
He was paltry, and pitiful, scurvy, and mean,
was poor. 'Twas once on a time, when they took a galleon, And the crew touch'd the agent for cash to some tune, Tom a trip took to jail, an old messmate to free, And four thankful prattlers soon sat on his knee: Then Tom was an angel, downright from heaven sent, While they'd hands, he his goodness should never
repent. Return'd from next voyage, he bemoan'd his sad caso To find his dear friend shut the door in his face ! Why, d'ye wonder ?” cried one, “ you're served right,
sure, “Once Tom Tackle was rich—now Tom Tackle is poor."
I ben't, you see, versed in high maxims and sich,
flip; And yet, for all this, no one Tom could endure, I fancy, as how, 'twas because he was poor.
At last, an old shipmate, that Tom might hail land,
wind; He gave him enough through life's ocean to steer, Be the breeze what it might, steady, thus, or no near ;
His pittance is daily, and yet Tom imparts
My Lucy, haste thee o'er the dale;
All silent comes the balmy gale;
And give the meads their yellow hue;
Reserve their fragrance all for you:
Are with unfeignèd raptures seen;
Come, claim the triumph of the green.
And shall my heart its claim resign?
Her heart and hand should both be mino.
THE ENTERED APPRENTICE.
[Brother MATTHEW BIRKHEAD.]
We brothers that are
Let's drink, laugh, and sing:
Our wine has a spring : Here's a health to an accepted Mason !
The world is in pain
Our secrets to gain, And still let them wonder and gaze on;
Till they're shown the light,
They'll ne'er know the right Word or sign of an accepted Mason.
'Tis this, and 'tis that,
They cannot tell what,
Should aprons put on,
To make themselves one With a free and an accepted Mason.
Great kings, dukes, and lords
Have laid by their swords, Our myst’ry to put a good grace on;
And ne'er been ashamed
To hear themselves named With a free and an accepted Mason.
We have on our side, And it maketh men just in their station:
There's nougřít but what's good
To be understood
We're true and sincero
And just to the fair ; They'll trust us on any occasion :
No mortal can more
The ladies adore
Then join hand in hand,
By each brother firm stand; Let's be merry, and put a bright face on:
What mortal can boast
So noble a toast
[Bro. J. E. CARPENTER, P.M.] God save our gracious Queen! Long live our noble Queen !
God save the Queen !
God save the Queen!
On Thee we call.
Oh! save us all. Thou, heav'n's great Architect, Our gracious Queen protect.
Long may she reign! O'er her thine arm extend, May she the craft befriend, And we her throne defend'!
God save the Queen!