The Master’s Wages
THE OLD MASTER’S WAGES
BY NEIL NEDDERMEYER-1979
I meet a dear old man today, who wore a Masonic pin.
It was old and faded, like the man, its edges were worn quite thin.
I approached the park bench where he sat, to give the old brother his due.
I said, “I see you’ve traveled east”, He said, “I have, have you?”
I said, “I have and in my day, before the all seeing sun, I played in the rubble with Jubala, Jubilo, and Jubalum.
He shouted, don’t laugh at the work my son, it’s good and sweet and true,
And if you’ve traveled as you said, you should give these things a due.
The word, the sign, the token, the sweet Masonic prayer,
The vow, that all have taken, who climbed the inner stair.
The wages of a Mason, are never paid in gold,
But the gain comes from contentment, when you’re weak and growing old.
You see, I’ve carried my obligation, for almost eighty years,
It has helped me through the hardships, and the failures full of tears.
Now, I’m losing my mind and my body, death is near but I don’t despair,
I’ve lived my life upon the level, and I’m dying upon the square.
Sometimes the greatest lessons are those that are learned anew,
And the old man in the park today, has changed my point of view.
To all Masonic brothers, the only secret is to care,
May you live upon the level, and part upon the square.
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