The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1893-12-04
PORTLAND ELKs.
The Services Last Evening in Memory of
Departed Members.

~eNoS
Departed Members.
The memorial session of the Portland
Lodge of Elks was held last evening.
The services were appropriate and a
large number of the members of the
lodge participated. This was the pro-
gramme:
Organ Voluntary, Prof. A. l.. Ryser
Go Tell 1t to Jesus,
Beethoven Quartette
Opening Ceremonies,
E. R., r. F. Somers
Selection,
Imperial Mandolin and Guitar Club
Prayer, Chaplin j. B. O'Neil
Our Days on Earth,
Beethoven Quartette
General Eulogy, E. G. SWEET
Calvary, Rodney
Selection,
Imperial Mandolin and Guitar Club
Eulogy, Poem
E. G. Mitchell.
Cannot Always Trace the Way,
Beethoven Quartette
Objects and Principles of the Order,
T. J. WEIGH
Gathering Home,
Beethoven Quartette
Closing Ceremonies, Officers
Benediction.
Mr.. Mitchelps poem follows:
Twas winter night in '93,
And mighty wild one too;
The snow was piled in huge white drifts,
And the wind.-a gale it blew.
/ plcdded home tflro' the binding storm
With closely buttoned coat
Thoughts filled my mind of the snowbound
That the Quaker poet wrote.
reached my humble home at last
And throwing off my toys,
My first act was to start d blaze
OF generous sized birch logs
An humble home said 1t was,
But comfort boarded there.
And thought of Paynes immortal lines
That palace is ne'er so fair"
What haven of rest to tired man
Is seat by an open fire.
There certain feeling OfluXury there
And ease, to the hearts desire.
What series of pictures the flames present!
What castles are builded there!
IT'S panorama of life itself
OF dreams beth dark and fair
How good it seemed on this winter night
To sit by its cheering flames.
What scenes saw in retrospect
OF jOys-success. and lost aims;
How deeds of my youth went fieeting by
And the faces of childhood friends;
How / saw my whole life in the flashing
CLEANS
Drawn out as the smoke ascends.
How long had unused do not know,
But one thing Lean tell,
was reused by eLeYe5s musical pealS
From my clocks little silver bell.
Eleven o. clock!-that sacred hour
To an Elk where'er she may be, RS
When .absent brothers" health is drunk
1t shall always be sweet to me. ~
I went to my modest sideboard then.
Brought out some rare old wine,
Filled up my glass and drank a toast
To absent brothers" mine.
AS stood by the fire aud drained my glass
And screened with my baud my eyes,
] seemed to see in the leaping flames
Some long lost faces rise.
First came AL. Neal. warm hearted and kind,
With ever a helping hand
For those less fortunate than he
IL the battle Of life in our land.
And Mannix's face was pictured there;
True hearted honest Dan;
OF him could nature truly say
To the world there was man."
And then came ccurtly, cultured Searle,
In his own. quiet way,
With brilliant mind and CHEEKY mien,
A scholar, both grave and gay.
Now, Jimmy Mulnix, dear old chap,
With his own peculiar was
And CHEEKY face, and haa laugh,
AS in the good old days
Last. Jimmy Donahue came, too,
Old. merry hearted Jim; q
In life, he lived for joy and fun;
No tears or walls for him.
Then, in group, I saw them all;
Good Eiks, each one, and true;
Speak! Speak! l cried; give ME word
TO take the boys from you
"(JlVe them our lOYe.o voice then said
listened to catch the whole,
And then the words plainly heard
Were craven on my SOUL
TELL them, when they are gathered now,
And eleven O'Clock comes round,
To not forget to drink to us.
Who were their brothers bound,
Bound by the ties of true Elk's love,
Bound by the vows of men,
Bound by them once, no life, nor death,
Can sever them again. st
Tell them that we are brothers, yet,
Yet Ons'the other shores"
Wheneer an Elk shall cross the bridge,
He'll find us at the door
With welcome. hearty in our soul,
And helping hand furSooth,
Death may destroy our temporal shapes,
Elks' hearts have eternal youth.
Tell them So live! that when they come
To cross the Great Divide
They'll have no vain regrets to leave
Nor unkind things to hide.
Yonr health, my brother. DER againp'
o. could but have called them back!
But twas hope forlorn,
A farewell toast drank them, taen,
My eyes welled up In tears;
You were brothers here; you lived like men;
Peace to your shade. thro' all years.
In memory's casket Brothers then,
Drop pearl for their memory tonight
May we all meet at last, when this life course is
run,
On the shores of the Harbour of Light.
OBITUARY,
Mrs. Lydia M. Berry.
Lydia M. Hobart, widow of Ira Berry,
who died in this city last evening, was
born in bingham, Mass, August 5, 1904.