The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Farewell to the Brethren of St. James's Lodge
For other versions of this work, see The Farewell, to the Brethren of St. James's Lodge, Tarbolton.
THE FAREWELL,
TO THE BRETHREN OF ST. JAMES'S LODGE, TARBOLTON.
Tune—Gude Night and Joy be wi' you a'.
Adieu! a heart-warm fond adieu!
Dear Brothers of the mystic tie;
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy!
Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortune's sliddery ba',
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still, tho' far awa.
Dear Brothers of the mystic tie;
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy!
Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortune's sliddery ba',
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still, tho' far awa.
Oft have I met your social band,
And spent the cheerful festive night;
Oft, honour'd with supreme command,
Presided oʻer the Sons of Light:
And by that Hieroglyphic bright,
Which none but Craftsmen ever saw,
Strong Mem'ry on my heart shall write
Those happy scenes, when far awa.
And spent the cheerful festive night;
Oft, honour'd with supreme command,
Presided oʻer the Sons of Light:
And by that Hieroglyphic bright,
Which none but Craftsmen ever saw,
Strong Mem'ry on my heart shall write
Those happy scenes, when far awa.
May Freedom, Harmony, and Love,
Unite you in the grand Design.
Beneath th' Omniscient Eye above,
The glorious Architect Divine!
That you may keep the unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet's law,
Till Order bright completely shine,
Shall be my pray'r, when far awa.
Unite you in the grand Design.
Beneath th' Omniscient Eye above,
The glorious Architect Divine!
That you may keep the unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet's law,
Till Order bright completely shine,
Shall be my pray'r, when far awa.
And you, farewell, whose merits claim,
Justly, that highest badge to wear,
Heav'n bless your honour'd, noble name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear.
A last request permit me here,
When yearly ye assemble a',
One round. I ask it with a tear,
To him, the Bard, that's far awa.
Justly, that highest badge to wear,
Heav'n bless your honour'd, noble name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear.
A last request permit me here,
When yearly ye assemble a',
One round. I ask it with a tear,
To him, the Bard, that's far awa.
Finis.