District No. 0720

Toasts of the BPOE

11 O'clock Toast
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"You have heard the tolling of eleven strokes.
This is to remind us that with Elks
the hour of eleven has a tender significance.
Wherever an Elk may roam,
Whatever his lot in life may be,
when this hour falls upon the dial of night
the great heart of Elkdom swells and throbs.
It is the golden hour of recollection,
the homecoming of those who wander,
the mystic roll call of those who will come no more.
Living or dead, an Elk is never forgotten, never forsaken.
Morning and noon may pass him by,
the light of day sink heedlessly in the West,
but ere the shadows of midnight shall fall,
the chimes of memory will be pealing forth
the friendly message --

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The Original Jolly Corks Toast.
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"Now is the hour when Elkdom's tower is darkened by the
shroud of night,
And father time on his silver chime, tolls off each moment's flight.
In Cloistered halls each Elk recalls, his Brothers where'er they be,
And traces their faces to well-known places, In the annals of memory.
Whether they stand on a foriegn land or lie in an earthen bed,
Whether they be on the boundless sea, with the breakers of death ahead.
Whate'er their plight on this eerie night, whate'er their fate may be,
Wherever they are, be it near or far,
Thay are thinking of you and me.
So, drink from the fountain of fellowship, to the Brother who clasped your hand,
And wrote your worth in the rock of earth, and your faults upon the sand.

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