A Freemason's Visit With A Sick Brother

O' Brother of mine — made as such
In the lodge we both know and love,
I come to visit with you awhile
And taking your hand, bring to your lips a smile.
I take your aged and wrinkled hand
And clasp it in Brotherly Love;
I stay and chat awhile and it seems to me
God is watching from above.
You seem tired today — not too much to say,
But then you're getting — older,
On your head more hairs of gray.
What I say doesn't matter much —
But your smiling face turns towards me
And in a hushed voice say —
"How are the Brothers, how is Lodge?" and such.
It's getting past nighttime now
And I must take my leave,
But I'll be back again to visit
When the sun sets and it becomes eve.
You know, a lot of people say
It's a good thing that I do;
But they really don't understand
The reason why...
...For when I visit and try to comfort
A friend and Brother,
It's not him I comfort
But I.
It's not really a chore to do
Taking but a few minutes of my time;
I'm really glad to visit with you
For had I not, doubtless do I know,
By seeing you and your face
Taking on a glow — a shine,
I would be less a man, a friend,
Much less a Brother —
Dear old friend of mine.

W.·. Raymond A. Holmes, II

Chaplain
Suffolk Lodge No. 60
Port Jefferson, N.Y.