-
Articles/Ads
Article AN OLD MASONIC CHAIR AND ITS HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS. ← Page 3 of 3 Article A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW. Page 1 of 3 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
An Old Masonic Chair And Its Historical Associations.
The writer embraces this opportunity to render a grateful acknowledgment to his friend and brother , Dr . John Clopton , of Williamsburg , Va ., for information kindly afforded him towards the preparation of this hasty ancl brief sketch . R . A . BROCK , Member of Richmond Lodge , No . 10 . mimiond , 7 a ., Dee . lWi , 1878 .
A Hundred Years From Now.
A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW .
BY MISS MARY A . M'MULLEN . THE surging sea of human life for ever onward rolls , Ancl bears to the eternal shore it daily freight of human souls ; Though bravely sails our bark to-day , pale Death sits at the prow , And few shall know we ever lived , a hundred years from now . ¦
0 , mig hty human brotherhood , why fiercely war and strive , While God ' s great world has ample space for everything alive ? Broad fields uncultured and unclaimed are waiting for the plough Of progress that shall make them bloom a hundred years from now . Why should we try so earnestly , in life ' s short , narrow span ,
On golden stars to climb so high above our brother man ? Why blindly at an earthly shrine in slavish homage bow ? Our gold will rust , ourselves be dust , a hundred years from now . Why prize so much the world ' s applause ? Wh y dread so much its blame ? A fleeting echo is its voice of censure or of fame ; The praise that fills the heart , the scorn that dyes with shame the brow , Will be as long forgotten dreams a hundred years from now .
0 , patient hearts that meekly bear your weary load of wrong ; 0 , earnest hearts that bravely dare and , striving , grow more strong , Press on till perfect peace is won ; you'll never dream of how You struggled o ' er life ' s thorny road a hundred years from now . Grand , lofty souls , who live and toil that freedom , right , and truth , Alone may rule the universe , for you is endless youth ?
When , ' mid the blest with God you rest , the grateful lands shall bow , Above your clay in rev ' rent love a hundred years from now . Earth ' s empires rise and fall , 0 , time , like breakers on the shore ; They rush upon the rocks of doom , go down , and are no more ; The starry wilderness of worlds that gem Night ' s radiant brow Will light the skies for other eyes a hundred years from now .
Our Father to whose sleepless eyes the past ancl future stand An open page , like babes we cling to Thy protecting hand ; Change , sorrow , death , are nought to us if we may safely bow Beneath the shadow of Th y throne a hundred years from now . —Eclectic , f
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
An Old Masonic Chair And Its Historical Associations.
The writer embraces this opportunity to render a grateful acknowledgment to his friend and brother , Dr . John Clopton , of Williamsburg , Va ., for information kindly afforded him towards the preparation of this hasty ancl brief sketch . R . A . BROCK , Member of Richmond Lodge , No . 10 . mimiond , 7 a ., Dee . lWi , 1878 .
A Hundred Years From Now.
A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW .
BY MISS MARY A . M'MULLEN . THE surging sea of human life for ever onward rolls , Ancl bears to the eternal shore it daily freight of human souls ; Though bravely sails our bark to-day , pale Death sits at the prow , And few shall know we ever lived , a hundred years from now . ¦
0 , mig hty human brotherhood , why fiercely war and strive , While God ' s great world has ample space for everything alive ? Broad fields uncultured and unclaimed are waiting for the plough Of progress that shall make them bloom a hundred years from now . Why should we try so earnestly , in life ' s short , narrow span ,
On golden stars to climb so high above our brother man ? Why blindly at an earthly shrine in slavish homage bow ? Our gold will rust , ourselves be dust , a hundred years from now . Why prize so much the world ' s applause ? Wh y dread so much its blame ? A fleeting echo is its voice of censure or of fame ; The praise that fills the heart , the scorn that dyes with shame the brow , Will be as long forgotten dreams a hundred years from now .
0 , patient hearts that meekly bear your weary load of wrong ; 0 , earnest hearts that bravely dare and , striving , grow more strong , Press on till perfect peace is won ; you'll never dream of how You struggled o ' er life ' s thorny road a hundred years from now . Grand , lofty souls , who live and toil that freedom , right , and truth , Alone may rule the universe , for you is endless youth ?
When , ' mid the blest with God you rest , the grateful lands shall bow , Above your clay in rev ' rent love a hundred years from now . Earth ' s empires rise and fall , 0 , time , like breakers on the shore ; They rush upon the rocks of doom , go down , and are no more ; The starry wilderness of worlds that gem Night ' s radiant brow Will light the skies for other eyes a hundred years from now .
Our Father to whose sleepless eyes the past ancl future stand An open page , like babes we cling to Thy protecting hand ; Change , sorrow , death , are nought to us if we may safely bow Beneath the shadow of Th y throne a hundred years from now . —Eclectic , f