A fire-mist and a planet—
A crystal and a cell
A jelly-fish and a saurian,
And caves where the cave-men dwell;
Then a sense of law and beauty
And a face turned from the clod—
Some call it Evolution,
And others call it God.
A haze on the far horizon,
The infinite, tender sky,
The rich ripe tint of the cornfields,
And the wild geese sailing high—
And all over the uplands and lowland
The charm of the golden rod—
Some of us call it Autumn,
And others call it God.
Like the tides on a crescent sea-beach,
When the moon is new and thin,
Into our hearts high yearnings
Come welling and surging in—
Come from the mystic ocean
Whose rim no foot has trod—
Some of us call it Longing,
And others call it God.
A picket frozen on duty—
A mother starved for her brood—
Socrates drinking the hemlock
And Jesus on the rood;
And millions who, humble and nameless,
The straight hard pathway plod—
Some call it Consecration,
And others call it God.
— William Herbert Carruth
To this beautiful conception, Deputy Grand Master Roe Fulkerson, Grand Lodge of the District of Columbia, has added the following inspiration:
Brethren banded together
Hand in hand for good,
Joined for mankind’s uplift,
United in brotherhood.
Each of the band a builder,
Faces turned from the sod;
Some folks call it Masonry
And others call it God.