THE MASON’S RIDE.
The goat, the goat, the bearded goat!
The horned, the hoofed, the hairy goat!
As I’m a sinner of some note,
Last night I rode the Mason’s goat!
He was a beast of wondrous size,
With lengthy limbs and glassy eyes,
And beard that swept the carpet clear,
And horns that shook the chandelier!
Ye gods! if there’s a time we feel
Misgivings through our noddle steal,
It is when we through mystery float
Upon the dark Freemason’s goat.
Now some will say there’s no such thing,
And at the goat derision fling;
And say that all is Fancy wrought,
Through fear and dread suspicion brought.
But those who such remarks outpour
Have never knocked at Mason’s door,
Have nothing known about that beast
That was imported from the East,
Where kings of wisdom, wealth, and pomp
Bestrode him through his midnight romp.
Three times was I compelled to ride
The creature ‘round the Temple wide,
But while I tried the fearful mount,
My heart’s pulsations all might count,
For thump on thump with treble knell
Within my breast it rose and fell.
Twice did I make the circuit fair,
My hold his horns, his tail, or hair,
Though never shot a kangaroo,
So fast Australian jungle through.
From garret roof to basement floor,
Through ante-room and closet door,
O’er winding steps and columns tall,
He held his way through house and hall,
Till on the third attempt, and last,
When I presumed all danger past,
He pitched me clear of horns and head,
And left me far below for dead.
THE ROCKY ROAD TO MASONRY.
I felt as though a worthless clod
Unfit to keep above the sod;
But when I rose with terror pale
The goat had vanished, head and tail,
And I was styled by one and all
The greenest mason in the hall.
Let those who deem they are possessed
Of fadeless cheeks and valiant breast,
Of hair that never will aspire
To bristle like a brush of wire,
No matter through what risk they run,
Go ride that goat, as I have done.
