A semicircle sunburst shines
within a painted sky
within its curved and formal lines
a large, all-seeing eye;

Attendant stars below its stare
festoon a chalky cloud
the compass symbol, with set square,
moulded in gold, stands proud

Roped off with hempen cable
where the floor is cracked and old,
There stands an altar table
Of wood inlaid with gold.

Bees frozen in marquetry
swarm round a silent hive:
small workers of Freemasonry,
keeping their craft alive.

Below, beneath the marble floor
with black, unseeing eyes,
just before the north wing door
a reckless traitor lies.

The flagstones keep a silent peace
over his hapless bones,
bereft of stars, of worker bees,
and queen bees flanked with drones.