Bennington semi-weekly banner. (Bennington, Vt.) 1894-1902, 1894-06-15


| The pen that wrote 1t strong and clear
| Was dipped in Vermonts atmosphere.
| So toiled these men Of courage might.
Assured that day must follow night,
| That thought poured forth. with purpose high
| In noble deeds, can never die
| Light slowly came, but dawned at last,
The day appeared, the night was past,
| And on October's fifteenth morn
The Grand Lodge OF the State was born.
That was hundred years ago.
Young Freedom then had struck the blow
| For Drawn and brain that tolls and thinks,
And sent light streaming through the chinks
OF shattered walls: France burst through strif
OF revolution into life.
Chief Justice Jay, at Britain's gates
Demanded, for wrong done these States,
Redress, and brought back In his hands
A treaty. just to these new lands.
The voice of freedom shook the earth
When this Grand Lodge camc to the birth,
And ringing clear from height to height
The cry was heard-"Let there be light"
No lodge could wreck and sink forthwith
whose first grand master was Noah Smith
He launched and steered bis well-built barque
AS one, his namesake, did the Ark.
Nor would here be held to mean
That to his craft came aught uncleanI
Or that it once the kind contained
That filled the old ark when it rained.
Our Noah took no beast a1oat,
Except it was, perhaps the goat,
By all true Masons loved and feared.
Ger placid seas with favoring gales
To cheer the crew and fill the sails,
Chapman, the second master, steers
The Grand Lodge barque for eighteen years.
To serve his age with gift and grace
A preacher stands in Chipman's place,
Proving at once to foe and friend
That church and lodge can meet and blend,
For Nye was still man Of prayer
In pulpit, home, or Grand Lodge chair.
Whitney Robinson, White and Wales
Brought each the faith that never fails,
To rule the lodge and hold her true
In freedoms course, and so she grew.
To him who well her history reads
Each year is filled with noble deeds.
Now strength against the wrong she Yields
And now some minister she shields,
Like Robert Hastings from the door
OF his church turned, for nothing more
Than seeing the Masonic lights
And joining in its sacred rites,
Well might the lodge surprise express,
AS she did then; how could she lessi
That they who loved the Prince of Peace
Could not from strife and discord cease,
But by an ill-considered deed
Loves conquest Of the world impede!
This was in eighteen twenty.four,
The light was here; 1t needed more,
But fingered long, and grew to less,
For. loi the CT and Lodge in the stress
OF battle shakes; the storm winds blow,
the night comes down, her lights burn low.
To be Mason in those times
Was to be charged with all the crimes
Enacted since the rolling sun
Looked down on Cain committing one.
But stormy times bring stalwart men;
Nathan B. Haswell was here then.
How was he built? Poured in a mould,
Molten and mixed, was granite, golC,
Iron and marble. equal parts,
Bravest of brave Green Mountain hearts,
With little, if any, common clay
Nathan H. Haswell was built that wayl
Tucker was like him-these two men
Braved the wild storm that threatened then,
To make these hundred years sublime
AS leaves torn from the book Of time,
Designing men from morbid thought,
The Morgan myth to being brought,
And at Masonic doors was laid
A charge the foulest ever made.
Killed Morgan? He came to his death
Like other mentor want of breath
The only Morgan this lodge through
The State has sent, as though it flew,
With something like Masonic pride,
Is the Morgan horse that never diedl
The ant-Masons had their day,
And like all anti's, passed away,
Leaving few that we may see
How thoughtless thinking men can be.
Englesby, Hall and Davis rise
In calmer days with brighter skies
Above the lodge, to grace her chair
And all her rifted stones repair.
To mention Bowman, Smith and Reed.
Men pure in thought and great in deed,
A Butler, Meacham, Perkins, Hall,
Wing, Bacon, is but to recall
To this Grand Lodge the late and rare
Grand masters who have filled her chair,
And brief the roll, for 1t appears
| She had but twelve in eighty years,
| And only twenty-five held sway
Since Rutland saw her natal day.
AS age goes back to youthful things,
| And streams return to their old springs,
| The Grand Lodge with her hundred years
In touch with Manchester appears,
| Finds in her chair man Of worth
From the fair heights that gave her birth,
John Harris Whipple, nobler name
Appears not on her scroll Of fame.
In him all past grand masters meet
Through him the honored line we greet,
| The living cheer, and DER the dead
Acacia spugs in silence spread.
What of the futureY Fair and bright!
| The cry still rings-"Let there be light"
Long as the radiant sun shall rise
| To high noon from the eastern skies;
Long as the old Green Mountains stand
Like sentinels to guard our land,
| While changing seasons come and go
| To strew the flowers and sift the snow
| Through winters cold and summers heat,
| The Grand Lodge Of Vermont shall meet,
| Her chair the throne of grace and power
| AS it has been and is this hour.
| Then, when tired Time has reached his bourl
| The Grand Lodge shall rise and adjourn
| To other hills in summer lands
! Whose temples are not made with hands.
The Grand Lodge yesterday re-elect
the officers of last year, and practica
located the proposed Masonic Temple
Burlington. G. ID. Phillips was rec
pointed D. D. G. NJ. for this part of t
State.