It is not ornamental, the cost is not great,
There are things far more useful yet truly I state,
That of all my possessions, there's none to compare
With the white leather apron that all Masons wear.
As a young lad I wondered just what it all meant
When Dad hustled round and so much time was spent
On shaving and dressing and looking just right
Until Mother would say, It's the Masons tonight.
Then some nights she'd say What makes you go
Away up there tonight in the sleet and the snow
You see the same things every month of the year.
And Dad would reply, Yes I know it my dear.
For years I have seen the same things it is true,
And tho' they are old, still they seem new,
For the hands that I clasp, and the friends that I greet
Seem a little bit closer each time we meet

Years later I stood at that very same door,
With good men and true, who had entered before.
I kneeled at the altar, and there I was taught
That virtue and honour can never be bought.
That the spotless white lambskin, all Masons revere
If worthily worn grows more precious each year.
That service to others brings blessings untold
That men may be poor, tho' surrounded by gold.
I learned that true brotherhood flourishes there,
That enmities fade 'neath the compasses and square,
That wealth and position are all thrust aside,
As there on the level men meet and abide.
So, honour the lambskin and may it remain
Forever unblemished and free from all stain,
And when we are called to the great Father's love,
May we all take our place, in the Grand Lodge above