The White Leather Apron: The Lambskin Poem

At our last meeting, held on Saturday 24 October 2026, this poem was recited to the newly made Mason.

The verses are by Edgar Albert Guest (1881–1959), the beloved American poet known as the "People's Poet". In these lines he reflects on the white leather apron as a symbol of purity, of brotherhood, and of a father's lifelong devotion to the Craft — a devotion the son only comes to understand when, years later, he kneels at the altar himself.

The Lambskin Poem

It is not ornamental, the cost is not great,
There are other things far more useful, yet truly I state,
Though of all my possesions, there's none can compare,
With that white leather apron, which all Masons wear.

As a young lad I wondered just what it all meant,
When Dad hustled around, and so much time was spent
On shaving and dressing and looking just right,
Until Mother would say: "It's the Masons tonight."

And some winter nights she said: "What makes you go,
Way up there tonight thru the sleet and the snow?
You see the same things every month of the year."
Then Dad would reply: "Yes, I know it, my dear."

"Forty years I have seen the same things, it is true.
And though they are old, they always seem new,
For the hands that I clasp, and the friends that I greet,
Seem a little bit closer each time that we meet."

Years later I stood at that very same door,
With good men and true who had entered before, I knelt at the alter, and there I was taught
That virtue and honor can never be bought.

That the spotless white lambskin all Masons revere,
If worthily worn grows more precious each year, That service to others brings blessings untold, That man may be poor tho surrounded by gold.

I learned that true brotherhood flourishes there, That enmities fade 'neath the compass and square, That wealth and position are all thrust aside, As there on the level men meet and abide.

So, honor the lambskin, may it always remain
Forever unblemished, and free from all stain, And when we are called to the Great Father's love, May we all take our place in that Lodge up above.

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For the new Brother who received it that morning, the apron is more than a piece of leather. It is the purity with which he should keep his conduct unstained, the brotherhood of the hands clasped around him on the level, and the memory of every father and every Mason who wore it before him — forty years of devotion, always old, always seeming new. May he wear it worthily, and may it remain forever unblemished and free from all stain.