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Article Funeral Dirge. Page 1 of 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Funeral Dirge.
Funeral Dirge .
INTO that vale descending , § Whose symbols Master Masons know , § Where lig ht and darkness blending , i Image our life of joy and woe . Great SUSSEX , we thus lowly
The Architect confess , Whose hand , or swift or slowly , Gives each the last impress .
First of our Craft in station , Best in Masonic strength , Lord of our ancient nation , Thou hast reach'd the Lodge at length Where from Craftsmen entered newly ,
To the loftiest height we know , Each in his turn shall duly , To assume his fit rank , go .
The outward tokens wearing j Of our truly felt distress , Our craped banner rearing , Weakly our grief express . We weep for a chieftain parted , We mourn for a brother gone , And even the lightest-hearted Grieves as for an only son .
Though vain our tears , sincerer Were never for mortal shed , Nor prayers were ever clearer , Than are ours for SUSSEX dead . Long , long must we weep , and weeping ,
Feel more keenly , because in vain Flow our tears , for our master sleeping , Can never join us again . Kensal Cemetery , May 4 , th , 1843 .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Funeral Dirge.
Funeral Dirge .
INTO that vale descending , § Whose symbols Master Masons know , § Where lig ht and darkness blending , i Image our life of joy and woe . Great SUSSEX , we thus lowly
The Architect confess , Whose hand , or swift or slowly , Gives each the last impress .
First of our Craft in station , Best in Masonic strength , Lord of our ancient nation , Thou hast reach'd the Lodge at length Where from Craftsmen entered newly ,
To the loftiest height we know , Each in his turn shall duly , To assume his fit rank , go .
The outward tokens wearing j Of our truly felt distress , Our craped banner rearing , Weakly our grief express . We weep for a chieftain parted , We mourn for a brother gone , And even the lightest-hearted Grieves as for an only son .
Though vain our tears , sincerer Were never for mortal shed , Nor prayers were ever clearer , Than are ours for SUSSEX dead . Long , long must we weep , and weeping ,
Feel more keenly , because in vain Flow our tears , for our master sleeping , Can never join us again . Kensal Cemetery , May 4 , th , 1843 .