In the Kingdom of Friendship and Love.

As you stand in this new realm of beauty,
Where each man you meet is your friend,
Think not that your promise of duty
In hall, or asylum, shall end.
Outside, in the great world of pleasure.
Beyond in the clamour of trade,
In the battle of life and its coarse daily strife,
Remember the vows you have made.

Your service, majestic and solemn,
Your symbols, suggestive and sweet,
Your uniform phalanx in column
On gala-days marching the street;
Your sword and your plume and your helmet,
Your 'secrets' hid from the world's sight;
These things are the small, lesser parts of the all
Which are needed to form the true Knight.

The martyrs who perished rejoicing,
In Templary's glorious laws,
Who died 'midst the faggots while voicing
The glory and worth of their cause -
They honoured the title of 'Templar'
No more than the Knight of to-day,
Who mars not the name with one blemish of shame,
But carries it clean through life's fray.

To live for a cause; to endeavour