Author of all divine
Gifts, lofty, pure, and free,
Temperance and truth in song sublime
An offering bring to Thee!
A temple, whose high dome
Rose from a water-cup;
And from its altar to Thy throne
May we press on and up!
And she — last at the cross,
First at the tomb, who waits —
Woman — will watch to cleanse from dross
The cause she elevates.
Sons of the old Bay State,
Work for our glorious cause!
And be your waiting hearts elate,
Since temperance makes your laws.
“Temples of Honor,” all,
“Social,” or grand, or great,
This blazoned, brilliant temperance hall
To Thee we dedicate.
“Good Templars” one and all,
Good “Sons,” and daughters, too,
We dedicate this temperance hall
To God, to Truth, and you!