I was born in antiq­uity in the ancient days when men first dreamed of God. I have been tried through the ages and found true. The cross­roads of the world bear the imprint of my feet and the cathe­drals of all nations mark the skill of my hands. I strive for beauty and for sym­me­try. In my heart is wis­dom and strength and courage for those who ask. Upon my altars is the Book of Holy Writ, and my prayers are to the One Omnipo­tent God. My sons work and pray together, with­out rank or dis­cord, in the pub­lic mart and in the inner cham­ber. By signs and sym­bols I teach the lessons of life and of death and the rela­tion­ship of man with God and of man with man. My arms are wide­spread to receive those of law­ful age and good report who seek me of their own free will. I accept them and teach them to use my tools in the build­ing of men, and there­after, find direc­tion in their own quest for per­fec­tion so much desired and so dif­fi­cult to attain. I lift up the fallen and shel­ter the sick. I hark to the orphan’s cry, the widow’s tears, the pain of the old and des­ti­tute. I am not church nor party nor school, yet my sons bear a full share of respon­si­bil­ity to God, to coun­try, to neigh­bor and to them­selves. They are freemen, tena­cious of their lib­er­ties and alert to lurk­ing dan­ger. At the end I com­mit them as each one under­takes the jour­ney beyond the vale into the glory of ever­last­ing life. I pon­der the sand within the glass and think how small is a sin­gle life in the eter­nal uni­verse. Always have I taught immor­tal­ity, and even as I raise men from dark­ness into light, I am a way of life. I Am Freemasonry.

Ray V. Denslow