District No. 7280


Eleven O'Clock Toast

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 -- 




Now  the eleventh hour when Elkdom's tower
is dark with shroud of night,
When father time on his silver chime
Tolls off the moment's flight.

In the Cloistered halls each Elk recalls
His Brothers where'er they be,
And traces their faces to well-known places
In the annals of memory.

And Whether they stand on a foreign land
Or lie in their earthen bed,
Or Whether they be on the boundless sea
With breakers of death ahead.

Whatever their plight in the eerie night
Whatever their fate may be,
Wherever they are if near or far
They are thinking of you and of me.

So drink from the fount of fellowship
To the Brothers who have clasped your hand,
Who carved your worth on the rocks of earth
And wrote your faults on the sand.


From the Tampa Bay Lodge


These eleven chimes of clarity have brought attention to our ear.

Let brotherly love, justice and charity guide our actions throughout the year.

We toast now in brief meditation and pray God keep our country free,

And bring peace to each warring nation so our passed away members may see,

That the star of fidelity shines brightly and steers us throughout our lives.

Benevolent Elkdom meets here nightly with friends, husbands and wives.

We will always remember September eleven, and pray each victim has gone to heaven.

Terrorism will not prevail. Their only choice is death or jail.

Let our glorious flag wave forever, with gentle breezes from Tampa Bay,

Guide our officers in every endeavor, as they manage our lodge each day.

The faults of our members are written in sand, but their virtues from the past we remember.

When we give a hug or shake a hand, it's a toast, TO AN ABSENT MEMBER.




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