Lodge Dalkeith Kilwinning No. 10

Antient Free and Accepted Masons of Scotland

Constituted 21st December 1724

Lodge Poems

An Episode

The record of an episode on a visitation to Dalkeith Kilwinning No 10 when presumably the deputation from Journeyman No 8 met the cost of their own refreshments, recorded in poems sometime between 1880 - 1882 (the correct date cannot be ascertained).

From Dalkeith No. 10 to Journeymen No. 8

After ye gaed awa last night

We found oorsel’s in sic a plight

We found ye’d payed what was oor due

I didna think ye were sae fou

Accept apol’gies frae No 10

Wha like to treat their guests like men

And trust their Brethern on the square

And gie them aye becoming fare

Oor steward maun hae be confused

But I maun tell ye he’s no used

To take from guests what we should pay

And that ye’ll find anither day

Perhaps I should hae gi’en direction

For want O’ which I need correction

However that maybe, I send

Enclosed wi’ this tae mak’ amend

A potsal order in your name

Which you can say frae Tam Smith came

Come oot again when we hae berries

And summer weather and brae cherries

And Brother Barton ye maun bring

If he’ll no dance we mak’ him sing

I ken straeberries mak’ him frisky

And we’ll gie him guid Scotch whiskey

But mind ne’ist time ye pass oor pillar

Ye leave ahint yourse’ls your sillar

But come ye soon or come ye late

We’ll gie a welcome No 8

The Reply from No. 8

I got your clever rhyming letter

And as a thing ne’er pleased me better

For it I’ll lang remain your debtor

But as I’ve time

I’ll gie ye my views o’ the waiter

Like you in rhyme

Tae tell the truth I kent quite weel

The fault lay wi’ you Steward Chiel

And sae ye didna’ need to feel

A hair o’ shame

The fellows heids been in a creel

Sae him we’ll blame

For Worshipfuls like you and me

It’s whiles no easy just tae see

That a is done as it acht tae be

Among sae mony

E’en I mysel’ can gang aglee

As weel as ony

I got ye’r order for the chink

Tae pay for what we had to drink

But yet a wadna’ hae ye think

Ye were ma debtor

I’d ne’er again e’en by a wink

Hae waisted the waiter

But when tae Dalkeith next we’re startin’

I’ll mind tae bring Brother Barton

But you mauna oor auld friend dishearten

By ony plisky

Syne fillin’ him as fou’s a paukin’

Wi Dalkeith whiskey

And noo er’e I lay doon my pen

I’d like ye, Brother Smith tae ken

That we’ll sune hae a nicht again

Wi yin anither

And drink success tae Number ten

And you my brother

An Ode to No. 10 from No. 8 on the occasion of a visit to No. 8. from the 1970 's

You've heard the tale how Robin Hood

Came riding through the glen

His merry men were not a match

For Kilwinning Number Ten

Like a bank of border reivers

They came sweeping to the toon

The keepers in the castle even

Locked up Scotia's Croon

And on their way they passed through

A place called Little France

Their piper gie’d his bag a squeeze

And led them in a dance

Some local chiels were sair afraid

And did’na hae a bash

They took exception to a tune

We know it as the sash

For they’re wild men from that south land

Where miners oft tell

Of how the Lodge gave shelter to

A dame called Eskimo Nell

Just by the Lodge, a graveyards stands

'Twas there, Nell got her licks

They chased her round the tombstones

Waving the Deacons’ sticks

Some years ago along they came

With a good sized deputation

To visit the cream in Number Eight

And caused a sensation

They missed the door and round the street

These heroes gaily went

Marched into St Patrick's

Just imagine, it was Lent

Yes ! They’re heroes from that bare land

Where the ale they brew is strong

And when they work the third degree

It lasts for three hours long

Perhaps sometime in the future

I shall maybe have the pleasure

To call at Dalkeith Number Ten

And have a drink at leisure

For o’er a year has passed by since

Last you heard my rhymes

And at that time you promised me

A dram for auld lang syne

Your Lodge’s ancient minutes record

A tale I know is true

You’re bound to grant a nip

To a brother wearing blue

So if I’m spared, I’ll make a trip

To enjoy that dram

But heaven protect your worthy steward

If he serves me up with spam

So accept my personal welcome

And all the cheese don’t snaffle

I trust you’ve done your duty

And supported our poor raffle