Lily — Removing THE S TAINED

A wail of sorrowing hearts pervades the Lodge,
And flows and bears a volume of sad sounds;
O purity defiled! oh, soiled and smirched,
Who wert so fair! upon our Pillars twain
We hung thine emblem, gathered from the mead,
A modest flower, the L ILY , virgin white,
White like the Apron, modest like the soul
That hides the left hand when the right hand gives,
Tear the smirched L ILY from its place defiled,
And cast it out, alas, with bitter tears!