Annals of the Grand Lodge of Iowa, Volume 17
Grand Secretary, 1901
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Page 330 - So live, that when thy summons comes, to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 28 - He that complies against his will, Is of his own opinion still...
Page 328 - I have asked that dreadful question of the hills That look eternal ; of the flowing streams That lucid flow for ever ; of the stars, Amid whose fields of azure my raised spirit Hath trod in glory : all were dumb ; but now, While I thus gaze upon thy living face, I feel the love that kindles through its beauty, Can never wholly perish ; — we shall meet Again, Clemanthe ! Clem.
Page ii - True is it that Death's face seems stern and cold, When he is sent to summon those we love, But all God's angels come to us disguised ; Sorrow and sickness, poverty and death, One after other lift their frowning masks, And we behold the seraph's face beneath, All radiant with the glory and the calm Of having looked upon the front of God.
Page xxxix - The crest and crowning of all good, Life's final star, is Brotherhood; For it will bring again to Earth Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth — Will send new light on every face, A kingly power upon the race; And till it comes we men are slaves, And travel downward to the dust of graves.
Page 193 - Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!
Page 194 - Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
Page 185 - I have nought that is fair?" saith he ; " Have nought but the bearded grain ? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again.
Page xxxix - Come, clear the way, then, clear the way: Blind creeds and kings have had their day. Break the dead branches from the path: Our hope is in the aftermath — Our hope is in heroic men, Star-led to build the world again. To this event the ages ran: Make way for Brotherhood — make way for Man.
Page 328 - There is no death! The stars go down To rise upon some fairer shore, And bright in Heaven's jeweled crown They shine for evermore. There is no death!