Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem
    Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem
    Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem
    Ebook118 pages1 hour

    Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem

    By Harriet Annie Wilkins

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    "Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem" by Harriet Annie Wilkins. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGood Press
    Release dateDec 19, 2019
    ISBN4064066149659
    Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem

    Related to Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      The Epic Of Gilgamesh

      Jan 1, 2020

      My friends, who can reach heaven? The monster bellows like a river swollen with flood.Many are consumed in his fiery breath. My friends, who can reach heaven? Let us ask the mountain for a sign.Let us cut the spirits from the cedars. My friends, who

      3 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Sep 1, 2023

      This poem is for everyperson who will neverread it either by choiceor circumstance I writeit in silence wherethe most realparts of our liveslive like a shoe lostin an alley or an emptyboat in a black sea butmore like the fallenleaf on the other sideo

      2 min read

    • Article

      The Island (catullus 64)

      Mar 1, 2022

      Back then the evergreens tumbled downriverfrom the glaze-white runoff to the boot-stirred puddlesof amber young men who fulfilled our destiny,who clambered into ships, on horses, and in wagonspainting the newfound landscapes ours.Our calling was nobl

      9 min read

    • Article

      Until The Sea Closed Over Us And The Light Was Gone

      Jul 1, 2020

      —Dante, Canto XXVI But if the truth is dreamed of toward the morning—El Paso Although it was really last summer’s song,all this summer Despacito played on as slower then I turned myself to gazeupon Juarez. The summer everything hurts my eyes, a dozen

      6 min read

    • Article

      Stop Hating on Adjectives!

      Jun 12, 2019

      A common admonition in creative writing pedagogy is, “Cut as many adjectives as possible.” I propose that this rule springs from mere prejudice. The post Stop Hating on Adjectives! appeared first on The Millions.

      7 min read

    • Article

      Something About John Coltrane

      Sep 1, 2021

      Something about a tree in shallow sleepListening for what it wants to remember: The note of a seed, its neck sliding throughDirt and its confusion—nothing cleansed Of struggle. The weight lost after death,A confrontation of death. John Coltrane Even

      5 min read

    • Article

      Your Poetry

      Jun 24, 2022

      Email your poems to: (editorial@choicemag.co.uk) or post to Your Poetry, Choice, 4 Milnyard Square, Orton Southgate, Peterborough PE2 6GX I remember the tree from my youth,the way its leaves hissed in stormsweeping tears in driving rainand casting a

      2 min read

    • Article

      Brightest Blessings!

      Dec 12, 2021

      Brightest Blessings!
      5 min read

    • Article

      Mountain Time

      Jan 1, 2021

      In the air you don’t know who you are or where My own self feels it is in wind being born These are currents a man made one eighth of smokeless fire fears but chooses A path south from Anchorage to a Mountain House Ungovern the northern land to pass

      10 min read

    • Article

      The Call Of The Wild

      Nov 30, 2020

      The Call Of The Wild
      2 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Rowan Ricardo Phillips

      Jun 15, 2018

      And, after the explosion, made spheres sing,A pure expression of pure poetry,Like rising rain or a nation with noFlag—. Something that whispers as the airDoes just before the lightning comes. A pureExpression of the breaks in the blank lakesOn Neptun

      2 min read

    • Article

      Bard In The Woods

      Nov 30, 2020

      Bard In The Woods
      4 min read

    • Article

      Merry & bright

      Dec 11, 2023

      Merry & bright
      6 min read

    • Article

      Ursula K. Le Guin

      Jun 15, 2018

      He was thinking of Lookfar, abandoned long ago, beached on the sands of Selidor. Little of her would be left by now, a plank or two down in the sand maybe, a bit of driftwood on the western sea. As he drifted near sleep he began to remember sailing t

      15 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      The painting is of a door, its wood so warpedwith moisture it cannot close. It stays ajar leaving a sliver of light—enough to suggestsomething sweet and almost unreachable behind the door—and you sit in yourroom working on the bills or those comforti

      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Sep 4, 2018

      In London. England. Who knows why?Perhaps this rumpled guyFrom central casting or a page of Dickens.He’s taking ordinary usTo haunts of the illustrious,Where even dull pulse quickens. A red felt hat’s dark fingered brim,Food-spotted vest are—him.A mo

      4 min read

    • Article

      RHYME & REASON

      May 17, 2021

      RHYME & REASON
      1 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2021

      I learned the world through the bottoms of my feet, barein the creeks of summer, stepping on pebbles, the squidgeof moss between my toes. On hot asphalt, the hop and skipover cracks, feet already toughened by bramble, dirt, the pricklyground of pine

      4 min read

    • Article

      Celebrating Christmas

      Oct 19, 2022

      Celebrating Christmas
      3 min read

    • Article

      The Season Of Lamentation

      Mar 23, 2022

      EVERY month for the past six months, my friend Guy and I have been taking a band of pilgrims through the streets of London, starting from All Hallows by the Tower to end with Evensong at Westminster Abbey. Guy sings and I talk about Trojan kings and

      2 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Jul 1, 2022

      After centuries of deferralto the white sky cloud cover God, who kept me on orange alert,babbling for mercies that were batted away sloppilylike dustballs in the wake of a sock, I turned to the Divine Creatrix,who built the short night, I was convinc

      2 min read

    • Article

      There’s No Place Like Home

      Aug 17, 2022

      NÍL aon tinteán mar do thinteán fhéin,’ Rose says (it means: ‘There is no fireplace like your own’) every time we turn in through our gates and catch a glimpse of the house at the end of the drive. We have been leading such a peripatetic existence of

      2 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jul 1, 2022

      The embers of a Thousand YearsUncovered by the HandThat fondled them when they were FireWill stir and understand——from Emily Dickinson’s “1383” Remember when we hurriedourselves into the evening’s sacral blaze: Our coal-covered bridal gownsdrenched i

      6 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem - Harriet Annie Wilkins

      Harriet Annie Wilkins

      Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem

      Published by Good Press, 2022

      goodpress@okpublishing.info

      EAN 4064066149659

      Table of Contents

      Preface

      Victor Roy

      Victor's Soliloquy.

      Robert's Death

      Ethel's Mission.

      Aimee's Soliloquy.

      Twelve Month's After.

      Miscellaneous Pieces

      Mist and Sunshine.

      Charge to the Knight of Malta

      The Curl of Gold.

      Holy Communion.

      Song of Azael.

      Only a Story

      Daybreak.

      The Wife's Watch.

      Adoniram.

      A Legend of the Temple.

      Songs in the Night.

      In Memoriam.

      A Song of the Flowers.

      The Cities of Old.

      Out of His Time.

      Two Altars.

      The Doom of Cain.

      Our Poor Brethren.

      Vain Dreams.

      The Forest River.

      Last Words of Sir Henry Lawrence.

      To the Birds.

      Initiation Ode.

      Installation Ode.

      Grand Master of the

      Grand Lodge, A.F. & A.M.

      Of Canada.

      Preface

      Table of Contents

      An anecdote appeared some time ago in the pages of The Craftsman which gave rise to the ideas embodied in Victor Roy. It is not a story of profound depth. Its aim is not to soar to Alpine heights of imagination, or to excavate undiscovered treasures from the mines of thought. It is a very simple story, told in very simple words, of such lives as are around us in our midst. It tells of sorrows that are daily being borne by suffering humanity, and of the faith that gives strength to that suffering humanity to endure seeing Him, who is invisible. All lives may not see their earth day close in sunshine, but somewhere the sun is shining, and all true cross-bearers shall some day become true crown-wearers. The following pages have some references to that Ancient Order which comes down the centuries, bearing upon its structure the marks of that Grand Master Builder, who gave to the visible universe the sun to rule the day, the moon and stars to govern the night; an Order which, like these wondrous orbs, is grand in its mysterious symbolism, calm in its unvarying circles, universal in its beneficence.

      We are told of a poor weary traveller who had plucked a flower. The shadows of a grand cathedral lay before him. He entered; its architecture charmed him, its calmness refreshed him. Approaching a shrine he laid his flower upon it, saying: It is all I can give; it, too, is God's work, although gathered by a feeble, dying hand. A priest standing near looked upon the flower and said: God bless you, my brother, heaven is nearer to me. So, if by the perusal of Victor Roy one ear hears more distinctly the Apostolic declaration, Pure religion is to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, or if one poor sinking spirit is strengthened, as Longfellow says, to touch God's right hand in the darkness, the wishes of the Authoress will be fully accomplished.

      Harriett Annie

      Hamilton, August, 1882.

      Victor Roy

      Table of Contents

      Victor's Soliloquy.

      Table of Contents

      Heavily rolleth the wintry clouds,

      And the ceaseless snow is falling, falling,

      As the frost king's troops in their icy shrouds,

      Whistle and howl, like lost spirits calling.

      But a warm luxuriantly furnished room,

      Is an antidote to the wild night storm,

      Lamplight and firelight banish the gloom,

      No poverty stalks there with cold gaunt form.

      Yet there seems a shadow, yes even there,

      Where all is so peacefully grand and still,

      No fair young face with its shining hair,

      No voice of love with its musical thrill.

      One reigneth alone in that mansion grand,

      And his day of life has long past its noon,

      The wanderer of many a foreign land,

      Rests, calmly waiting Heaven's final boon.

      There are lines on his brow of grief and care,

      Writ with a quill from Time's feathered wing.

      There are silver threads in the chesnut hair,

      The blossoms white of a fair dawning spring.

      Yet Victor Roy has a kindly word,

      And a kindly smile for all he meets;

      No cry of distress is by him unheard,

      While many a blessing his pathway greets.

      "Yes, that's right Jasper, draw the curtains close,

      And make the fire burn bright;

      God help the poor and suffering ones

      Within this city to-night.

      Did your wife send food to that sick girl in the market lane to-day?

      Did you carry coals to the man whose limbs were crushed by the loaded dray?

      Well, that's all right, what is it you say? you wish that I did but know

      The comfort I give to hearts that are weak, or erring or low.

      Have you turned lecturer, Jasper? no; but it makes you sad,

      To see me lonely and quiet when I'm making others glad.

      But Jasper, remember that you and I, hold certain things in trust,

      We must gain some interest on our gold, not let it lie and rust.

      I am but a steward for the King, till the time of his return,

      There, that will do, supper at ten; how bright those fresh coals burn."

      Poor Jasper, he thinks me moping and sad; well, well, I only know

      I do not wish that he or aught should ever consider me so,

      It would seem like base ingratitude to the Ruler of my way,

      Who showers His blessings about and around me every day.

      But oh, Great Architect, whose hand has carved my destiny,

      There was a time when in my pride, I owned not Thine nor Thee,

      Unheeding the Holy Light Divine to man's dark pathway sent,

      Unheeding the Bible, blessed chart, to storm tossed sailors sent;

      With a

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1