MO EAST CENTRAL
District No. 4760

Absent members

The 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 their 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, Elks are never forgotten, never forsaken.

Morning and noon may pass them 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, To our absent members.



"THE ORIGINAL JOLLY CORKS TOAST"
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 foreign 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,
Where ever they are be it near or far
They 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.

TO OUR ABSENT BROTHERS


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