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Article THE NAILS OF THE TEMPLE. Page 1 of 2 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Nails Of The Temple.
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" And the weight of the nails was fifty shekels of gold . " —^ 2 Chiron , hi . 9 . No human wisdom framed our halls ; No bodily sweat bedews our walls ; The utmost ken of human eye Fails its proportions to espy ; Nor is it for a mortal ' s ear Its songs at eye and morn to hear .
AN UNFINISHED POEM . BY BEO . ROB MOBRIS .
Our Temple crowns no earthly hill ; The Tur ^ Silbam pours her sacred stream For them tl ^ Yet fixed on aft unfailing base Is found otir Temple's resting-place .
Unnumbered hearts and lips prolong The glory of pur votive song ; The savour of our sacrifice Ascends and gladdens to the skies , Where builders , met from many lands , Rear up the " house not made with hands , "
I would record some fitting phrase Of those sublime , those mystic lays , Some names of the unnumbered host Else ' neath the moss of ages lost—One episode of all those cares , Whose story marks three thousand years .
Author of wisdom , make me wise To comprehend these mysteries ! Author of strength , the power impart To build and cement from the heart ! Author of beauty , grant me grace k Each hue to paint , each line to trace !
THE FOUNDATION . The stones of the foundation In the holy jnountain lie , Brought from the sacred quarries By the hand of Deity ; Each block the perfect angle , Fulfils and gratifies , And rests upon the level Acknowledged in the slues ,
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Nails Of The Temple.
Tp MILS GP ^
" And the weight of the nails was fifty shekels of gold . " —^ 2 Chiron , hi . 9 . No human wisdom framed our halls ; No bodily sweat bedews our walls ; The utmost ken of human eye Fails its proportions to espy ; Nor is it for a mortal ' s ear Its songs at eye and morn to hear .
AN UNFINISHED POEM . BY BEO . ROB MOBRIS .
Our Temple crowns no earthly hill ; The Tur ^ Silbam pours her sacred stream For them tl ^ Yet fixed on aft unfailing base Is found otir Temple's resting-place .
Unnumbered hearts and lips prolong The glory of pur votive song ; The savour of our sacrifice Ascends and gladdens to the skies , Where builders , met from many lands , Rear up the " house not made with hands , "
I would record some fitting phrase Of those sublime , those mystic lays , Some names of the unnumbered host Else ' neath the moss of ages lost—One episode of all those cares , Whose story marks three thousand years .
Author of wisdom , make me wise To comprehend these mysteries ! Author of strength , the power impart To build and cement from the heart ! Author of beauty , grant me grace k Each hue to paint , each line to trace !
THE FOUNDATION . The stones of the foundation In the holy jnountain lie , Brought from the sacred quarries By the hand of Deity ; Each block the perfect angle , Fulfils and gratifies , And rests upon the level Acknowledged in the slues ,