Far away in the West, where the savage is straving,
His war path all gory, his visage begrimed,
Where man hates his fellow, betrayed and betraying,
And nature alone breathes a spirit sublime —
There's a Fountain whose flow sweet as nectar inviteth,
Embosomed in hills such as Eden adorn;
Each sip of its waters to Friendship inciteth
And P EACE is the song that its song birds return.

There met , drops the Savage his hatchet and arrow,
There met , breast to breast, joins in fondest embrace;
From the song birds the foemen sweet caroling borrow,
And war paint the waters wash out from each face;
The hills smile around — 'tis the approval of Heaven —
Their light catches, glances in every eye,
And speaks of a host of foul insults forgiven,
And pledges a Covenant that never can die.

T HE L ODGE is a peace fount! come, Brothers, and taste it!
O'erflowing with sweetness, to you it is given!
A R OCK its F OUNDATION , — what ages have placed it!
Its C OVERING , the starry-decked arches of Heaven.
Its L AW , 'tis inscribed in yon holiest Volume —
Its C HAIN , every link is the soul of a Man!
Behold on the right hand and left hand its C OLUMN !
Behold in the East is its marvelous P LAN !