Tune,-Goodnight and joy be wi' you a'.

I.

ADIEU! a heart-warm, fond adieu!
Dear brothers of the myftic tye!
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd Few,
Companions of my focial joy!

Tho'

Tho' I to foreign lands muft hie,
Pursuing Fortune's flidd'ry ba',
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you ftill, tho' far awa'.

II.

Öft have I met your focial Band,
And spent the chearful, feftive night;
Oft, honour'd with fupreme command,
Prefided o'er the Sons of light:
And by that Hieroglyphic bright,

Which none but Craftsmen ever faw!
Strong Mem'ry on my heart fhall write
Thofe happy fcenes when far awa'

III.

May Freedom, Harmony, and Love,

Unite you in the grand Defign,

Beneath

Beneath th' Omniscient Eye above,
The glorious Architect Divine !
That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still rifing by the plummet's law,
Till Order bright completely fhine,
Shall be my pray'r when far awa'.

IV.

And You farewell! whofe merits claim,
Juftly, that highest badge to wear !
Heav'n blefs your honour'd, noble Name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear!
A laft request permit me here,
When yearly ye affemble a',
One round, I afk it with a tear,

To him, the Bard that's far awa’.

SONG.

SON G.

Tune,-Prepare, my dear brethren, to the ta

vern let's fly, &c.

I.

No Churchman am I for to rail and to

write,

No Statesman nor Soldier to plot or to fight, No fly Man of business contriving a fnare,

For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my

care,

11.

The Peer I don't envy, I give him his bow I fcorn not the Peafant, tho' ever fo low;

;

But a club of good fellows, like those that are here,

And a bottle like this, are my glory and

care.

III.

Here paffes the Squire on his brother-his

horse;

There Centum per Centum, the Cit with his

purse;

But fee you the Crown how it waves in the

air,

There a big-belly'd bottle ftill eafes my care.

IV.