Farewell! farewell! Like a merry marriage-bell, Pealing with a tuneful swell, Telling, in a joyful strain, With a whispered, sweet refrain, Of the hearts no longer twain; So no longer cursed and fated, Fondly loved and truly mated, I can pour my inspirations, free as Orpheus, through my strain. Gifted with a sense of seeing Far beyond my earthly being, I can feel I have not suffered, loved, and hoped, and feared in vain; Every earthly sin and sorrow I can only count as gain: I can chant a grand “Te Deum” o’er the record of my pain. Ye who grope in darkness blindly, Ye who seek a refuge kindly, Ye upon whose hearts the ravens--ghostly ravens--perch and prey, Listen! for the bells are ringing, Tuneful as the angels singing, Ringing in the glorious morning of your spirit’s marriage-day, When the soul, no longer fettered to the feeble form of clay, To a high, harmonious union, soars, elate with hope away. Where the iris arch of Beauty bridges o’er celestial skies, Where the golden line of Duty, like a living pathway lies, Where the gonfalons of Glory float upon the fragrant air, Ye who read Life’s lengthening story, find a Royal Chapter there. Ye shall see how men and nations o’er the ways of life advance; Ye shall watch the constellations in their mazy, mystic dance; And the Central Sun shall greet you--greet you with a golden glance. O, for souls in Life Eternal let the bells in gladness ring! Bind the wreath of orange blossoms, and the wedding garment bring. “Come up higher!” cry the angels.--Let the bells in gladness ring. IV. Farewell! Farewell! Like the chiming of the bells, Which a tale of triumph tells; As the news in tuneful notes, Leaping from the brazen throats, On the startled ether floats;-- So in freedom, great and glorious, Over flesh and sense victorious, Does the Spirit leap the barrier which across its pathway lies! Greater far than royal Cæsar, Fearless as the northern Æsir, Drawn by Love’s celestial magnet, winged with faith and hope it flies, Upward o’er the starry pathway, leading onward through the skies, To the land of Light and Beauty, where no bud of promise dies. There, through all the vast Empyrean, Wafted, as on gales Hesperian, Comes the stirring cry of “Progress”! telling of the yet to be. Tuneful as a seraph’s lyre, “Come up higher! Come up higher!” Cry the hosts of holy angels; “learn the heavenly Masonry: Life is one eternal progress: enter, then, the Third Degree;-- Ye who long for light and wisdom seek the Inner Mystery!