Classic Poem

Oh gallant Knights, in fitting garb arrayed,
With crested helm and Cross and trenchant blade,
Brave Warriors in a wartare not to cease,
Till wearied hearts shall find eternal peace.
While in this broad Asylum meet,
Where wisdom, beauty, strength rejoice,
Let's gather at the Master'S feet,
And listen to the Master'S voice:
The Master , Prince Emmanuel,
The voice His Word we love so well.

If to this Conclave our dear Lord would come,
If here and now, J ESUS would grace this room,
If face to face, we might behold that head,
Once scarred with thorns, once humbled with the dead,
If in our hands those hands were laid, once torn
With spikes, alas! on cruel Cross tree borne,
What startling question, gallant Templars, might
The G RAND C OMMANDER make to us to-night.