DAY DREAMS

                  [Illustration: _Rudolph Valentino_]




                              DAY DREAMS

                           RUDOLPH VALENTINO

                            [Illustration]

                                (TO M.)

    _The serenade of a thousand years ago_
    _The song of a hushed lip_
    _Lives forever in the glass of today_
    _Wherein we see the reflection of it_
    _If we but brush away_
    _The cobwebs of a doubting faith._

                            _Published by_
                     MACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS, INC.
                               NEW YORK

                                 1923


                            COPYRIGHT, 1923
                                  BY
                           RUDOLPH VALENTINO

                                Printed
                              in U. S. A.


                            To J. C. N. G.
                       MY FRIENDS HERE AND THERE




INTRODUCTION


    I can not tell a rondelay
      In words of yesterday
    I can not tell a couplet
      For words come as they may.
    I’ll do my best--I’ll try a bit
      Of ultra-modern rhyme
    And cast aside the shackles
      Binding “Once upon a time.”




PREFACE


To you, my gentle reader, I wish to say a foreword of warning before you
peruse the contents of this book. I am not a poet nor a scholar,
therefore you shall find neither poems nor prose. Just dreams--_Day
Dreams_--a bit of romance, a bit of sentimentalism, a bit of philosophy,
not studied, but acquired by constant observation of that greatest of
masters!... _Nature!_

While lying idle, not through choice, but because forcibly kept from my
preferred and actual field of activity, I took to dreams to forget the
tediousness of worldly strife and the boredom of jurisprudence’s
pedantic etiquette.

Happy indeed I shall be if my _Day Dreams_ will bring you as much
enjoyment in the reading as they brought to me in the writing.

                                                    _Rudolph Valentino_

_New York--May 29th, 1923._




CONTENTS


                                                                    PAGE

THE GIFT BOOK                                                          1

NATURE                                                                 3

THE LOVE CHILD                                                         5

HEART FLOWER                                                           9

YOU                                                                   11

DAY DREAMS                                                            15

SUSPICION                                                             17

THE SAGE                                                              19

MORPHIA                                                               21

DOMINO                                                                23

THE SPHINX                                                            25

STRADIVARIUS                                                          27

EXTRAVAGANZA                                                          29

MIRAGE                                                                31

GLORIFICATION                                                         33

REMEMBRANCE                                                           35

THREE GENERATIONS OF KISSES                                           37

A BABY’S SKIN                                                         39

GRATITUDE                                                             41

SHADOWS                                                               43

ACCUSATION                                                            45

EVEN SONG                                                             47

GYPSIES                                                               49

THE CARRIER                                                           53

THE SCHOOL OF LIFE                                                    55

THE WANTON                                                            57

SLAVERY                                                               59

WITHIN A WALL                                                         61

THE CHALICE                                                           63

SOLICITUDE                                                            65

YOU                                                                   67

AT SUNRISE TOMORROW                                                   69

POVERTY                                                               71

CREMATION                                                             73

THE LUTE                                                              77

POWERLESS                                                             79

CAP AND BELLS                                                         83

PATCHWORK QUILT                                                       85

TO A. M.                                                              87

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A PESSIMIST                                         89

GEMS OF THOUGHT                                                       91

TO C. F.                                                              93

SYMPATHY                                                              95

LABOR                                                                 99

WEALTH                                                               101

UNDERSTANDING                                                        103

HUNGER                                                               105

MONEY                                                                107

THE CHOICE                                                           109

ITALY                                                                111

ERIN                                                                 113

BEES                                                                 115

TO M. T.                                                             117

IMPERIALISM                                                          119

RADIO                                                                121

THE KALEIDOSCOPE OF LOVE                                             123

MEMORIAL                                                             125

DUST TO DUST                                                         127

LULLABY TREE                                                         129

ADAGE                                                                131

FAITHFULNESS                                                         133

REFLECTIONS AT RANDOM                                                135

COOPERATION                                                          143




DAY DREAMS




THE GIFT BOOK

(To J. R.)


    A book is a kindly gracious thing.
    Each has a particular gift to bring.

      It may be the wealth
        Of a wonderful life,
      Or the thrilling adventure
        Of Jungle strife.
      Perhaps it’s a present
        Of orient gold,
      Tales of Aladdin
        Enchantingly told.
      Maybe a view
        Of olden days,
      Knighthood--Romance,
         Flowery ways.
      And again a journey
        To lands afar,
      Where strange things happen,
        And wonders are.

      All of them--Gift books
        But plainly I see,
      Not one of them holds
        The gift for me.
      I want a book
        That will lazily roam
      Down the dear Pathway
        To Folks back home.




NATURE


    Nature is the open book
    Wherein the truths of the world are found
    Nature is an endless story
    Of never changing glory
    When you study nature your teacher is God
    So always let your reference be
    This Greatest of Masters.




THE LOVE CHILD

(To B.)


    Don Juan roamed the summer sky
    A shady cloud of gray
    But this dull attire
    Hid a heart of fire
    In quest of romance stray.


Vision

    A lovely golden sunbeam
    Shining from above
    Came radiant by
    And caught the eye
    Of this vagabond of love.


Delusion

    In wild tempestuous wooing
    He kissed her heart away
    All in a jest
    It was the quest
    Of the cloud on a summer’s day.


Conclusion

    Through tears the sunbeam glimmered
    Then happily she smiled
    The tempest passed
    Alone at last
    With a little rainbow child.




    Dawn runs in a crimson streak
      Across a leaden sky--
    Just like a pulsing vein of life
    An artery of love not strife
    And it livens the heavens high.

    So in our sky today it seems,
      No sign of life we see.
    Do we not know,
    Night’s bound to go,
    Dawn follows instantly.




    If it were not for the showers, where
    would the rainbows be?




HEART FLOWER


    O lovely rose
        Within whose chalice lies
        The heart of my true love,
    Did not the gods in benediction stoop
        To bless thee from above?
        And place within thy roseate lips
        The rubies counterpart.
        I found it there
        A jewel rare
    The flower of thy heart.




YOU


Your Eyes

    Your Eyes,
      Mystic pools
        Of beauteous light.
      Golden brown
        In color
          Deep,
            Yet, amber clear.
      Unshadowed
        By a frown,
      Fathomless,
        Wherein
          My senses
            Drown.
    Your Eyes.


Your Lips

    Your Lips,
      Twin silken petals
        Of a dewy rose.
      Altar
        Of the heart
      Where love
        Kindling desire
          Worships unafraid.
      Crucible
        Of
          Passion.
      The rose in masquerade.
    Your Lips.


Your Kiss

    Your Kiss,
      A flame
        Of Passion’s fire
      The sensitive Seal
        Of Love
      In the desire,
        The fragrance
          Of your Caress;
      Alas,
        At times
          I find
            Exquisite bitterness
      In
    Your Kiss.




DAY DREAMS

(To The Friend)


    _Yesterday_--in contemplation
        We dreamed of love to be,
        And in the dreaming,
        Wove a tapestry of Love.

    _Today_--We dream our dream awake;
        Realization,
          Coloring our Romance
        With all the glory
          Of a flaming Rose.

    _Tomorrow_--What awakening lies before us:
        Our tapestry
          In shreds perchance,
        Or mellowed--glorified
          By love’s reflection?
    I wonder--




SUSPICION


    There crossed the path
        Of my dream of you
    A gossamer web of gray,
        So soft its sheen,
        Almost unseen,
    But it stopped me
        On my way.

    Like a cold, gray granite battlement
        It walled me all about,
    For a cruel steel,
        Was in the feel
    Of the silken web of doubt.




THE SAGE

(To M.)


    O Gladness shining bravely
        From out the eyes of youth,
    Be strong in your belief of good,
        Of valor and of truth.
    For soon enough,
    Too soon enough--
    The gladdest light meets doubt,
    Then flickers, flutters, just a bit,
        But, doesn’t quite go out.

    O Sadness peering divinely
        From out the eyes of age,
    Be strong in your belief of good.
        To youth--still be the sage.
    For soon enough,
    Too soon enough,
    The saddest light in doubt,
    Flickers, flutters, flickers,
        And finally goes out.




MORPHIA


    I am The Ingrate Morphia,
    You hold the brimming cup of your Life
    To me, athirst am I,
    And drink my fill
    Of strength, until
    The cup is drained dry.

    Then, satisfied, I care no more.
    The cup, I cast away,
    Crunch ’neath my heel.
    Its doom I seal,
    As I walk on my way.




DOMINO


    Passion’s cloak,
    An ashy thing to wear,
    Covering the shroud of love
    That once was fair.

    What gruesome imagery
    Does this convey to me.
    Grim death--itself no ghastlier a thing than this
    Could ever be.




THE SPHINX

(To B. H.)


    O Sphinx--a monument to man!
      Built by his hands of clay,
    You symbolize the power of might
      Used in an earthy way.
    Yesteryear, you stood for man’s symbolic strength sublime,
      Today, you all but buried are
    Beneath the sands of time.

    O Wondrous mountain--living Sphinx!
      Built by the hand of God,
    You symbolize the power of Love
      Used with the lowly sod.
    Yesteryear, a symbol of divinity sublime,
      Today, you lift your rugged head
    Untouched by hands of time.

    O Sphinx--a monument to man!
      Built by his hand of clay,
    You symbolize the power of might
      Used in an earthy way.
    Yesterday, you in grandeur stood alone.
      Today, you’re mingling with the sand
    A rotting mass of stone.

    O Wondrous mountain--living Sphinx!
      Built by the hand of God,
    You symbolize the power of Love
      Used with the lowly sod,
    E’er yesterday, you stood a monument of Love,
      Today unchanged, your glorious face,
        In worship turned above.




STRADIVARIUS

(To Jascha Heifetz)


    If power were only given me,
    To paint the tone picture that arises from the soul
    Of that sanctuary of sound--your violin,
    Where would I find pigment worthy of such a use,
    Save in the fleeting splendour of some sky.
    Where a brush--save in a snowy feather
    From the shining wing of an archangel.
    Where the canvas--save across the dream memory of one who heard
    And was blessed by the hearing.




EXTRAVAGANZA


Extravaganza! The very word is vulgar. Still vulgarity is necessary to
development, for even a weed growing in a swamp can sometimes be
cultivated into a hot house plant. Take an orchid not under its own
surroundings, but dress it by putting it in a proper receptacle, and
what a difference! But, outside of beauty what have you? If we could
only combine the beauty of an orchid with the soul of a weed we would
get an improvement in the orchid, for real weeds are grateful enough to
spring up between cobblestones, even to be trampled upon.

Rather be a blade of grass that knows the heart beats of Mother Earth,
than the potted plant which is pampered and only restored to a semblance
of life.




MIRAGE


    Happiness--you wait for us
      Just beyond,
            Just beyond.

    We know not where,
          Nor how we shall find you.
    We only know you are
        Waiting, waiting,
            Just beyond.




GLORIFICATION

(To W. W.)


    The arms of the earth broke through the sod
    And clenched his fist in derision,
    For clay knows not the might of God,
    It has but earthy vision.

    The finger of God wrote in the sky
    A sign of mighty fire:
    “Reach up to me for I am Life”
    But earth could reach no higher.

    With strength of muscle, with might and main,
    Earth struggled and then defied,
    But God stretched forth His hand of Love
    And Earth was glorified.




REMEMBRANCE

(To M. O.)


    An infant memory,
        A tiny fragile thing,
    Called into being
        By the brush of a colored wing
    Across the canvas
        Of my tired mind.
    It grows,
        A lovely picture of the past
                              I find,
    You! Grown to fullest stature
        Of the perfect soul,
    The tiny sheltered memory
        Has reached at last
                            Its goal.




THREE GENERATIONS OF KISSES

(To M. K.)


    A Mother’s kisses
    Are blessed with love
    Straight from the heart
    Of Heaven above.
    Love’s Benediction,
    Her dear caress,
    The sum of all our happiness.

    Till we kiss the lips
    Of the mate of our soul
    We never know Love
    Has reached its goal.
    Caress divine,
    You reign until
    A baby’s kiss seems sweeter still.

    That beloved blossom
    A baby’s face
    Seems to be
    Love’s resting place.
    And a million kisses
    Tenderly
    Linger there in ecstacy.

    Were I told to select
    Just one kiss a day;
    Oh! What a puzzle
    I would say.
    Still a baby’s kiss
    I’d choose, you see,
    For in that wise choice
    I’d gain ALL Three.




A BABY’S SKIN


    Texture of a butterfly’s wing,
    Colored like a dawned rose,
    Whose perfume is the breath of God.
    Such is the web wherein is held
    The treasure of the treasure chest
    The priceless gift--the Child of Love.




GRATITUDE

(To A. T.)


    The oleander blooms for me,
    In dawning splendrous beauty,
    I planted it so tenderly,
    And love has done its duty.

    All in a garden of the earth,
    All in a plot of ground,
    Wherein I found no bit of worth,
    The seed I planted in the ground.

    O Tiny seed almost unworthy
    To be cherished for thy looks,
    But deep within the heart of you
    Was wisdom never found in books.

    You are the spirit of the good,
    The joy, the beauty of all things,
    You are the melody of life--the song
    That Mother Nature sings.

    And so to that sweet lullaby
    You, in your perfumed cradle, rest
    Safe in the arms of Mother Earth,
    Held closely to her loving breast.

    Until one happy wondrous day
    When love so tenderly drew nigh,
    Lifted your tiny hand of green
    And turned your face toward the sky.

    The oleander blooms for me,
    In dawning splendrous beauty,
    I planted it so tenderly
    And love has done its duty.




SHADOWS


    Shadows--gray symbol of a broken faith.
    We cling to hope--in hope we find
    The symbol of a broken heart.
    Shadows--gray bleak gossamer web
    Of what once was woven ’round my heart.
    We slink within thy domain--the land of shadows.
    For still we hope.
    But knowing always, that a broken faith can never be restored
    To more than it was--a Shadow.




ACCUSATION


    Out of a shadowed corner
    Comes a phantom of the past,
          To confuse me
          And accuse me
    For a vain iconoclast.
          To chide me
          And deride me
    In a seething scornful blast.
          To cheat me
          And defeat me,
    Conscience, crucifies at last.




EVEN SONG


    I sing a song to the sapphire sky
    That curtains a sleeping earth.
    I sing a song to the stars on high
    That mark a jewel’s worth.

    My feeble voice, so weak it sounds,
    A puny earthy cry,
    Yet when its echo comes to me,
    Angelic voice in harmony,
    I know it is not I.

    It was belief that gave it wing,
    That weakling voice of mine,
    And carried it where angels sing
    God’s Melody Divine.




GYPSIES

(To R. B.)


    Little gypsies of the city,
    Little sparrows--more’s the pity,
    Homeless, heedless of the weather,
    Happy, banding all together,
    Never giving thought to trouble,
    Never seeing evil double,
    Would that we who proudly mention
    Every honorable intention
    To the world with trumpet blaring,
    Could, like sparrows, take uncaring
    All the little earthly struggles,
    Cast them gypsy-like aside
    And fly happily, and gladly
    All about earth’s countryside.


Why do the birds chant the psalm of glory?

Only because they alone are free throated and unafraid. Do they realize
the danger in the sling-shot of civilization? No--they are only
conscious of the Joy within.




    Why sing of Joy--
        If Joy is to be unheard.
    Why sing of Faith,
        If Faith is to be barred.
    For all that is good
        Is forever alive,
    And all that is bad
        Is dead before it be born.




THE CARRIER

(To J. K.)


    A poor little messenger clad in gray,
    Sent as a go-between--they say.
    Took a betrayal under its wing
    And guarded and cherished the slimy thing.

    We speak of Glory, and Trust, and Men,
    But that is all forgotten when
    We send this softly feathered bird
    With messages best left unheard.

    Oh! What a mockery ’cross the sky
    The dove is sent to act as spy.




THE SCHOOL OF LIFE

(To M)


Lives are classes--we are pupils with excellent teachers. Experience
should tutor us, but we so often shirk school. School can be made happy
and we delight in making a higher grade--but through not heeding
Experience’s teaching we often are left back in the old class, and
sometimes, sad to relate, are put several grades lower.

But, happily, there is always the opportunity of skipping many grades
upward. It’s a poor rule that doesn’t work both ways.

The Mind is the Grade we work in. We can have majestic thoughts, living
in a hermit’s hut, or we can think as a swine in a palace on a throne of
gold--let us choose our station--kingly children, or swineherds.
Eternity is the Empire.




THE WANTON


    To love, save that which mockery was,
    No heart, save that of stone.
    A multitude forever hers,
    Alas--not one--alone!

    Cradled in the arms of many,
    Not where to lay her weary head.
    Fortune smiled--held out her hand
    And struck the wanton dead.




SLAVERY

(To E. A. P.)


                        Love
              I am a slave,
    Yet free as birds above,
              Sold into bondage
    By the tender kiss of love.

                        Lust
              I am a slave
    In the rat trap of disgust,
              Sold into bondage
    By the lurid kiss of lust.

                        Hate
              I am a slave
    Prisoned by the walls of fate,
              Sold into bondage
    By the cruel kiss of hate.

                        Crime
              I am a slave
    Behind the bars of time,
              Sold into bondage
    By the leprous kiss of crime.

                        Death
              I am a slave
    No longer in my breath,
              Given sight of freedom
    Through the graciousness of death.

              Still am I a slave
    In the hand of destiny,
              Thought alone enslaved me
    And thought alone can free.




WITHIN A WALL


    Once in a time when skies were gray
    I chanced to walk in a cloistered way,
    I saw the ones who closed the door
    On all the world had spread before.
    Their eyes--that were closed to the joy of good,
    They thought the God’s law they understood.
    O Pity, Pity, for such as they
    Who only look on skies of gray,
    From cloistered windows sad of eye,
    When all about is glorious sky.
    It was but the tiny patch of gray,
    The shadowed thing that happened to play
    Behind the back of the glorious earth.
    Alas, they thought it was all the worth
    Of the whole wide world, the glorious world.
    But the folded wings were not unfurled
    And closed to use they lost the call,
    And so they lost to them their all.




THE CHALICE

(To E. H.)


    The chalice of a lily cup
    Is indeed the sacrament
    That Mother Nature uses
    When she communes with God.




SOLICITUDE


    On the sands of a happy shore,
    Walked two lovers, hand in hand,
    Leaving all that’s gone before.
    They mark each footstep in the sand,
    Knowing well that every foot print
    Will be trod by their own blood,
    Therefore, let each couple ponder
    O’er their footsteps
    For future good.


(To D. K.)

    Man is the word of the story,
    Woman is the inspiration,
    God is the book that binds,
    None other can be what is now the finished book.




YOU


    You are the History of Love and its Justification.
    The Symbol of Devotion.
    The Blessedness of Womanhood.
    The Incentive of Chivalry.
    The Reality of Ideals.
    The Verity of Joy.
    Idolatry’s Defense.
    The Proof of Goodness.
    The Power of Gentleness.
    Beauty’s Acknowledgment.
    Vanity’s Excuse.
    The Promise of Truth.
    The Melody of Life.
    The Caress of Romance.
    The Dream of Desire.
    The Sympathy of Understanding.
    My Heart’s Home.
    The Proof of Faith.
    Sanctuary of my Soul.
    My Belief of Heaven.
    Eternity of all Happiness.
              My Prayers.
                  You.




AT SUNRISE TOMORROW

(To E. B.)


    O Love, when you leave me do not say:
    “Tomorrow we meet at twilight”
    For that is the time of the darkening hour,
    The ending of the day.
    All is glowing, gleaming in our love,
    All is pulsing, breathing in the light
    Of understanding--it is not symbolic of twilight,
    Nor yet of dawning, for it has reached the zenith of love’s day.
    So when you leave me, dearest, do not say:
    “Tomorrow we meet at twilight.”
    Rather, beloved of my heart,
    “We meet at sunshine tomorrow.”




POVERTY


    Possessing the jewels of the earth,
    Holding within my grasp the sceptre of the universe,
    All these would but make me more the pauper--
    Were I beggared of your love.




CREMATION

(To G. S.)


I

    Just a packet of letters tied with a bit of blue,
    Just a packet of letters that once were sent by you
    To one who proved unworthy
    Of the Love inscribed within.
    The tiny packet of letters, a witness of my sin.


II

    Just a packet of letters, but they are not mine own.
    I dare not claim one thought in them
    Not even as a loan,
    For to the one you thought I was
    In all sincerity
    You bared the secrets of your soul.
    Now I send them back to thee.


III

    Just a packet of letters
    A monument of love.
    You lie within the fireplace,
    In smoke you’ll rise above
    The sordidness of all deceit,
    The grime of earthly thought,
    Yet, in this flash of living fire,
    The flame of love is caught.


IV

    Just a packet of letters a while ago you were,
    Now in vaprous symphony of gray
    I send you back to her,
    For the spirit of true love that’s penned,
    Must rise to meet her soul
    In pearly glory ’round her head.
    Love’s halo--is its goal.

       *       *       *       *       *

To rake over the dead ashes of a burnt out love one must use the pen
point of poetry.




THE LUTE


    The lute, a barrier to song of soul.
        For none save God
        Can music charm
    From out a thing man-made.
        A bowl of wood,
        A string or two to arm
    The troubadour with weapon strong.




POWERLESS


    When I see a look of sadness,
        In the eyes of You,
    Thoughts of grief akin to madness
        Surge my being through.

    Am I then so weak and helpless,
        That I can not send
    Even shadowings of sorrows
        To their deserved end.





    Garden of delight wherein the jewels of earth do lie!
    Tell me, in your vault of gold, will the flowers ever die?
    Nothing of so fair a mien could return to earthly dust.
    Even if the earth do say, “It is finished,” trust we must
    In the God who tells of light that will lift to Heaven above
    Every perfumed flower that blows symphonies on wings of love.




CAP AND BELLS

(To F.)


    In Life’s masquerade the disguises are many:
    Here’s a man masquerading as Wealth,
    Wears a million of gold,
    But a pauper, I’m told,
    He hasn’t a penny of health.

    Here comes a Beggar, in tatters and rags,
    Masking as Poverty old.
    He may look the part,
    But the wealth in his heart,
    Makes him richer than Croesus in gold.

    The costumes are varied disguises beguiling
    That cover the true man beneath
    One wears learned looks,
    That he’s borrowed from books
    And a co-operative laurel wreath.

    And still another pretending a clown,
    In make-up the silliest Fool,
    But his knowledge of men,
    Is beyond the ken
    Of a sage of the orthodox school.

    There are millions of others in Life’s Motley Masque
    Who follow the art of mime.
    They mimic and play
    At mockery today,
    But they never fool Old Father Time.




PATCHWORK QUILT


    A Patchwork Quilt,
    Industrious name.
    Once it was not quite the same.
    A different fame,
    A “Crazy Quilt,”
    Same foolish dame
    Entitled you.
    It was sorry fame.
    Life is like that,
    We do not see
    How little bits
    Make harmony--
    It’s up to man to take each bit
    Of happiness and make it fit.
    But if he takes and doesn’t dwell
    Upon the pattern--Well, it’s Hell!
    A crazy quilt the name’s O. K.
    But start a patchwork quilt today.




(To A. M.)


The sky is the mirror that reflects all phases of Life. The clouds of
Doubt bring showers, but there is always the “Silver Lining” promise.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Moral_: If the sky is the limit better fix it clear in your mind to
begin with.




THE PHILOSOPHY OF A PESSIMIST


    I do not care for money made easily,
    It is not lasting--I know.
    I do not care for friends made easily,
    They are not lasting--I know.
    I do not care for anything that comes easily,
    It never lasts--I know.
    But I fell in love with you easily,
    But, not lastingly--I know.




GEMS OF THOUGHT


    Diamonds--Scintillating wit of sharpest ray

    Emeralds--Philosophy, growth in words today

    Pearls--Are the hymns of pity

    Sapphires--Songs of the skies

    Rubies--Are poems of passion
            And love that never dies.




(To C. F.)


The curtain is raised on the first act--the overture is over. We can
play our parts. They say life’s a stage, but what a sad thing we have so
few good stage managers. Our productions have more in the way of Costume
and lack, so often, the right lines. Lines do count, not always words,
but sympathy of thought is quite as necessary.




SYMPATHY

(To J.)


Sympathy is just as essential to the world as any other great attribute
of good, but it must be sympathy in the right place.

Sympathy of thought has been the greatest lever in the machinery of
mankind, but to sympathize with a weak nature sometimes breaks up his
foundation. Know your subject.

Never withhold sympathy in loving one, but rather than sympathy, use
encouragement as a tonic to tone up a weakling.

Kindly sympathetic interest is only another name for encouragement.

Never take away a prop without putting a stronger one in its place.




On a stretch of sandy beach I see naught of human presence, but upon
looking closer, a remembrance of the past. I sit upon a rock and
meditate upon what once was. I see myself in all the splendor of my
youth. I see my boon companion--Hope, and one other one, whose name I’d
best forget. We walked--Hope and I--but ever the unnamed one stalked by
my side. I turned to gaze in fascination at my companion who speaks not,
but forever stalks silently beside me. I finally forget my Hope to gaze
in interest at the other. Hope, neglected, lags behind until we walk
alone--myself and the unnamed one. We walk forever, but the walk brings
us to the abyss of the world. What name has that one whose identity I
fail to know? O, Eternity, thou art my sight and knowledge. It was
Doubt, whose companion I became.




LABOR


    On whose shoulders are the crosses held,
    None can liken a laborer to him who bears the heavy-hearted thoughts.
    What can I say--it is more laborious than many tasks,
    Yet--’tis not task--
    For task is given to be done
    And ye are the cross bearers if ye will.




WEALTH

(To B. F. S.)


    Treasures in the lowly casket that we call a brain,
    Can jewels of the earth compare
    With all that man finds hidden there?

    The wealth of knowledge, that will lead a willing soul
    Into a land of untold wonder,
    Where will be the lasting goal
    Of every seeking thought--




UNDERSTANDING

(To the Brother of Maris)


    Maris of the golden eyes,
      You in all innocence
    Looked upon a lovely world
      In wondering shyness.
    Beauty beckoned,
      Then turned the corner of another day
    Leaving in her stead
      An unknown one,
    The stranger to light.

    Maris of the saddened eyes,
      In your pity,
    Looking from another world
      Have compassion on beauty
    Who thoughtlessly turned away,
      Leaving another in her place
    The stranger to light.




HUNGER


    I have journeyed toward the city
    On the long, long road of Life,
    I have learned how little Pity
    Plays a speaking part in life.

    I have learned that only Money
    Is the voice that’s heard today,
    Calling for God’s milk and honey,
    Even Hunger has no say.

    I have reached the city’s center
    By the crooked road of Hell,
    For Starvation’s been my mentor
    And has taught her lesson well.




MONEY


 Money--you Harlequin of the great masquerade of life.
 You wear the dollar sign as your mask.
 It may hide you--yes, for a time,
 But when at last grim reality stalks into the midst of the festivities,
 The mask is ruthlessly torn away, and then--is seen
 The true expression hidden behind it--the cruel visage of discordant greed.




THE CHOICE


    Words are jewels rare--
                  If need be
    Words are sometimes fair
                  You heed me,
    But our choosing makes them seem
    The reflection of a dream.

    Let us, therefore,
                  Choose in reason,
    Whereby all that good is ours,
    And by knowing rightful season
    Pass forever--happy hours.




ITALY

(To Caruso)


    The earth is earth--that is its worth,
    To men who walk below.
    But to the soul that seeks its goal,
    Each land is all they know.
    One calls it Home, another Heart, another Property,
    But to the one who loves the sun
    He calls it Italy.




ERIN


    The green sod is red now--
        Rebellion
    The green sod is white now--
        Purity
    The green sod is blue now,
        With truth
    And the green sod is ever green,
        It is growth--none can stop natural growth
    Erin--land of dreams--Awaken.




BEES


    The air is alive with buzzing bees
    The little workers of destinies.
    We grasp and strive to make our way,
    Each life a hive and so our day
    Is fraught with honey sweet, if we
    Know all is good in destiny.




(To M. T.)


A certain lad had a long way to go, so he sat still and waited
until--well, another lad also had a long way to go--so he hurried along
and before long he received several gifts not to be sneezed at. No, they
were not to be sneezed at, though I must say they made his eyes water a
bit. The gifts were lovely little blisters on his pedal extremities, so
he had to sit down and take care of his poor feet and in pain tarried,
looking at his poor feet. Ah, yes, our other little lad took it very
slowly, almost like the proverbial snail, but kept on the lookout and
pretty soon a nice, comfortable wagon came along, and took the slow
little boy for a nice ride, and the good little slow boy rode merrily by
the poor little fast boy, who still sat nursing his blisters. He had
really gone stepping on some little brimstones,--though he said they
were pebbles. The good little slow boy turned back and put his hand to
the poor little fast boy, but I regret to say he raised his digits to
his nose--O, world where is thy sting.

       *       *       *       *       *

Note--This is not a moral, it is only something that happens every day
on our best trafficked roads.




IMPERIALISM


    Oh, Mirror--most ungrateful ruler
      Man has ever had.
    We trembling bow to your decree,
      But oh! ’Tis very sad
    For all our great devotion
      And concern in your behalf,
    No matter how we worship you,
      You just give us the laugh.

    Though we may claim democracy,
      You hold us like a slave.
    The tyrant ruler of the world,
      From cradle to the grave.
    Pa Adam’s prize Apollos
      Look to you (It is to laugh)
    Their reward for faithful service,
      Is Methuselah’s Epitaph.




RADIO

(To H. M.)


    Radio of romance,
                  You
    Broadcasting to the universe
          All that is most blessed
                  In all things,
    But to me alone
          The melody of your Love
        Flows through
                  The artery
          Of time and Space,
    For unity,
          Can never know Division.




THE KALEIDOSCOPE OF LOVE

Synonyms and Antonyms


    A--Adoration--Anticipation--Affinity--Arguments.
    B--Beauty--Bliss--Bitterness--Bondage.
    C--Caresses--Circumstances--Confidences--Charm.
    D--Desire--Delusion--Dreams--Divorce.
    E--Ecstacy--Engagement--Ego--End.
    F--Fascination--Forgetfulness--Flattery--Faith.
    G--Gossip--Gratitude--Gift--Goodbye.
    H--Happiness--Honor--Heartache--Hell.
    I--Intuition--Irony--Idolatry--Integrity.
    J--Jealousy--Joy--Justice--June.
    K--Kisses--Keepsakes--Knowledge--Kismet.
    L--Lips--Loneliness--Logic--Longing.
    M--Marriage--Morality--Money--Man.
    N--No--Nearest--Novelty--Never.
    O--Opposition--Own--Offering--Opulence.
    P--Passion--Promise--Pride--Proposal.
    Q--Quality--Quest--Queries--Quarrels.
    R--Romance--Reveries--Realization--Remembrance.
    S--Sympathy--Sacrifice--Shame--Settlement.
    T--Thoughts--Truth--Temper--Tears.
    U--Unkindness--Understanding--Uncertainty--Unfaithfulness.
    V--Virtue--Vanity--Vows--Vengeance.
    W--Wisdom--Wishes--Wedlock--Woman.
    X--The Unknown--Love.
    Y--Youth--Yearning--Yes--Yawn.
    Z--Zenith--Zest--Zeal--Zero.




MEMORIAL

(To A. S. R.)


    A Saint in a stained glass window,
    To the memory of one
    Who “lived the life,”
    In sin and strife,
    Is the epitome of fun.

    A bit of colored crockery,
    A picture wrought in glass,
    His memory’s mockery
    ’Tis best to let it pass.

    A Saint in a stained glass window,
    A blest memorial true,
    When it reflects the beauty of
    The memory of you.




DUST TO DUST


I take a bone--I gaze at it in wonder--You, O bit of strength that was.
In you today I see the whited sepulchre of nothingness--but you were the
shaft that held the wagon of Life. Your strength held together the
vehicle of Man until God called and the Soul answered.




LULLABY TREE


    Cradle a thought on a bough of a tree,
    Where it will swing so lazily,
    Where it will gather to its heart
    All in Nature’s lovely mart.
    For every lovely living thing
    Stops to talk by a tree and sing,
    Of what has gone on that very day
    In fields and forests far away.

    If little thoughts hear happily
    All that’s said about a tree,
    They’ll grow to be so wise and true,
    They’ll come back to the heart of you
    Much stronger, grown in beauty free,
    Because their cradle was a tree.




ADAGE


    Happy childhood knows no sting
    That the age of stealth doth bring.
    Stealing hours from the day
    Takes the joys of strength away.
    Stealing hours from the Night
    Taking all--for rest is Might.
    When we steal away a Trust,
    Nothing ever can we give
    Back to him and so we must
    Never Steal, but Give to Live.




FAITHFULNESS

(To Our Little Friend--The Dog)


A dog is the nearest approach to the sweet submissive spirit God would
have in us, Faithfulness in the highest form. He only is faithful
because he believes in you, as God would have us believe in Him.




REFLECTIONS AT RANDOM

(To A. T.)


    Sing a song to the moon
    Or sing a song to the sun
    But just as long as you sing a song
    Your day or night is well begun.

     Woman, the unreasonable Reason for the Great Reason, which the
     sages call Life--Others not so knowing call it Love.

     Faith--The Engagement--repartee of Love. Hope--Marriage--maybe its
     reply, but Charity--Divorce--is the retort courteous.

     The wedding march or two-step, I should say, is only too often the
     lock-step.

     Punishment is seldom unmerited, though we may not always see the
     cause.

     It is unwise to doubt others when you are not sure of yourself.

     Scientists are fools in some respects, I mean the so-called ones,
     for they ignore the science of all important things.

     Friend is symbolical of Heaven, but some play Hell with it.

     Fun is a healthy disease and is very contagious.

     “May I intrude” is often substituted for “Do I intrude"--bores are
     not connoisseurs in the selection of verbs.

     Make the best of what comes, for the best is coming.

     The Great Divide is the division of thought which separates the
     Wise from the Fools.

     Whatever has in it the element of restlessness is like the poison
     ivy plant; it causes rash and spasmodic movements, and after all
     the scratching the victim is worse off than before.

     Worlds, and Worlds to live in, and so few do.

     Care is helpful if we carefully care, but when we carelessly care,
     be careful.

     Gossip--never related in the same way.

     When you eat hash you do not always recognize the different kinds
     of meat in it, do you? So it is with Twice Told Tales.

     We always prefer the most difficult way. It seems so much more
     important, but once we realize it, truth is always simplest when it
     is Truth.

     It takes a hero to accuse no one, but take another’s accusation to
     his heart.

     Love’s greatest expression is Service.

     Eyes are living windows.

     Into the garden we all go, but most are looking for the worm in the
     bud and never see the promise of the flower.

    ART the very mockery of it
    In a painted mask we sometimes call a face,
    Alas, that pigment be so badly used
    And artistry brought to much sad disgrace.

    Take freedom but take care lest it take your liberty from you.

    To be a humorist one must be concise, witty, but short-lived,
       for the good die young.

    Cleverness--word most useful to the Bard
    Who finds his pathway all beset with doubt,
    For if we find his hidden meanings hard,
    We call him “clever"--then he knows what we’re about.

     Publicity is the keystone in the Arch of Triumph.

     Money--pretender to the throne of all we most desire.

     Doubt is the opposing influence of our lives.

     Happiness, some never know as a lasting friend, but only as a
     bowing acquaintance.

     Wifehood is a profession, but Womanhood is the Expression.

     Faith is the oasis in our Desert of Lost Hope.

     Given a chance to run in the Great Race, even a weakling can win if
     he wears the Armor of Courage.

     Purpose in doing is the cornerstone of success.

     Did anything ever build itself over night that was worthy the name
     Great Structure?

     Loving service is more helpful than scholarly advice.

     Friend--Most lovely word, akin to love, its dearest relation--might
     I say.

     We dream of Greatness in humility, only to awaken to the greatness
     of Humility.




CO-OPERATION


    O Just and Mighty Army of the World of Living Things
    March on into the open heart of Man,
    He needs a touch of nature with the sympathy it brings
    In order to work out Life’s Perfect Plan.