The Project Gutenberg eBook ofDay Dreams

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofDay DreamsThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Day DreamsAuthor: Rudolph ValentinoRelease date: December 26, 2021 [eBook #67016]Most recently updated: October 18, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAY DREAMS ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Day DreamsAuthor: Rudolph ValentinoRelease date: December 26, 2021 [eBook #67016]Most recently updated: October 18, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

Title: Day Dreams

Author: Rudolph Valentino

Release date: December 26, 2021 [eBook #67016]Most recently updated: October 18, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAY DREAMS ***

DAY DREAMS

[The image of Rudolph Valentino is unavailable.]

RUDOLPH VALENTINO

The serenade of a thousand years agoThe song of a hushed lipLives forever in the glass of todayWherein we see the reflection of itIf we but brush awayThe cobwebs of a doubting faith.

Published byMACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS,Inc.New York1923Copyright, 1923BYRUDOLPH VALENTINOPrintedin U. S. A.To J. C. N. G.MY FRIENDS HERE AND THERE

I can not tell a rondelayIn words of yesterdayI can not tell a coupletFor words come as they may.I’ll do my best—I’ll try a bitOf ultra-modern rhymeAnd cast aside the shacklesBinding “Once upon a time.”

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 myDay Dreamswill bring you as much enjoyment in the reading as they brought to me in the writing.

Rudolph Valentino

New York—May 29th, 1923.

DAY DREAMS

A book is a kindly gracious thing.Each has a particular gift to bring.It may be the wealthOf a wonderful life,Or the thrilling adventureOf Jungle strife.Perhaps it’s a presentOf orient gold,Tales of AladdinEnchantingly told.Maybe a viewOf olden days,Knighthood—Romance,Flowery ways.And again a journeyTo lands afar,Where strange things happen,And wonders are.All of them—Gift booksBut plainly I see,Not one of them holdsThe gift for me.I want a bookThat will lazily roamDown the dear PathwayTo Folks back home.

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

It may be the wealthOf a wonderful life,Or the thrilling adventureOf Jungle strife.Perhaps it’s a presentOf orient gold,Tales of AladdinEnchantingly told.Maybe a viewOf olden days,Knighthood—Romance,Flowery ways.And again a journeyTo lands afar,Where strange things happen,And wonders are.

All of them—Gift booksBut plainly I see,Not one of them holdsThe gift for me.I want a bookThat will lazily roamDown the dear PathwayTo Folks back home.

Nature is the open bookWherein the truths of the world are foundNature is an endless storyOf never changing gloryWhen you study nature your teacher is GodSo always let your reference beThis Greatest of Masters.

Don Juan roamed the summer skyA shady cloud of grayBut this dull attireHid a heart of fireIn quest of romance stray.

A lovely golden sunbeamShining from aboveCame radiant byAnd caught the eyeOf this vagabond of love.

In wild tempestuous wooingHe kissed her heart awayAll in a jestIt was the questOf the cloud on a summer’s day.

Through tears the sunbeam glimmeredThen happily she smiledThe tempest passedAlone at lastWith a little rainbow child.

Dawn runs in a crimson streakAcross a leaden sky—Just like a pulsing vein of lifeAn artery of love not strifeAnd 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, wherewould the rainbows be?

Dawn runs in a crimson streakAcross a leaden sky—Just like a pulsing vein of lifeAn artery of love not strifeAnd 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, wherewould the rainbows be?

O lovely roseWithin whose chalice liesThe heart of my true love,Did not the gods in benediction stoopTo bless thee from above?And place within thy roseate lipsThe rubies counterpart.I found it thereA jewel rareThe flower of thy heart.

Your Eyes,Mystic poolsOf beauteous light.Golden brownIn colorDeep,Yet, amber clear.UnshadowedBy a frown,Fathomless,WhereinMy sensesDrown.Your Eyes.

Your Lips,Twin silken petalsOf a dewy rose.AltarOf the heartWhere loveKindling desireWorships unafraid.CrucibleOfPassion.The rose in masquerade.Your Lips.

Your Kiss,A flameOf Passion’s fireThe sensitive SealOf LoveIn the desire,The fragranceOf your Caress;Alas,At timesI findExquisite bitternessInYour Kiss.

Yesterday—in contemplationWe dreamed of love to be,And in the dreaming,Wove a tapestry of Love.Today—We dream our dream awake;Realization,Coloring our RomanceWith all the gloryOf a flaming Rose.Tomorrow—What awakening lies before us:Our tapestryIn shreds perchance,Or mellowed—glorifiedBy love’s reflection?I wonder—

Yesterday—in contemplationWe dreamed of love to be,And in the dreaming,Wove a tapestry of Love.

Today—We dream our dream awake;Realization,Coloring our RomanceWith all the gloryOf a flaming Rose.

Tomorrow—What awakening lies before us:Our tapestryIn shreds perchance,Or mellowed—glorifiedBy love’s reflection?I wonder—

There crossed the pathOf my dream of youA gossamer web of gray,So soft its sheen,Almost unseen,But it stopped meOn my way.Like a cold, gray granite battlementIt walled me all about,For a cruel steel,Was in the feelOf the silken web of doubt.

There crossed the pathOf my dream of youA gossamer web of gray,So soft its sheen,Almost unseen,But it stopped meOn my way.

Like a cold, gray granite battlementIt walled me all about,For a cruel steel,Was in the feelOf the silken web of doubt.

O Gladness shining bravelyFrom 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 divinelyFrom 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.

O Sadness peering divinelyFrom 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.

I am The Ingrate Morphia,You hold the brimming cup of your LifeTo me, athirst am I,And drink my fillOf strength, untilThe 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.

I am The Ingrate Morphia,You hold the brimming cup of your LifeTo me, athirst am I,And drink my fillOf strength, untilThe 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.

Passion’s cloak,An ashy thing to wear,Covering the shroud of loveThat once was fair.What gruesome imageryDoes this convey to me.Grim death—itself no ghastlier a thing than thisCould ever be.

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

What gruesome imageryDoes this convey to me.Grim death—itself no ghastlier a thing than thisCould ever be.

O Sphinx—a monument to man!Built by his hands of clay,You symbolize the power of mightUsed in an earthy way.Yesteryear, you stood for man’s symbolic strength sublime,Today, you all but buried areBeneath the sands of time.O Wondrous mountain—living Sphinx!Built by the hand of God,You symbolize the power of LoveUsed with the lowly sod.Yesteryear, a symbol of divinity sublime,Today, you lift your rugged headUntouched by hands of time.O Sphinx—a monument to man!Built by his hand of clay,You symbolize the power of mightUsed in an earthy way.Yesterday, you in grandeur stood alone.Today, you’re mingling with the sandA rotting mass of stone.O Wondrous mountain—living Sphinx!Built by the hand of God,You symbolize the power of LoveUsed with the lowly sod,E’er yesterday, you stood a monument of Love,Today unchanged, your glorious face,In worship turned above.

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

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

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

If power were only given me,To paint the tone picture that arises from the soulOf 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 featherFrom the shining wing of an archangel.Where the canvas—save across the dream memory of one who heardAnd was blessed by the hearing.

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.

Happiness—you wait for usJust beyond,Just beyond.We know not where,Nor how we shall find you.We only know you areWaiting, waiting,Just beyond.

Happiness—you wait for usJust beyond,Just beyond.

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

The arms of the earth broke through the sodAnd 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 skyA 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 LoveAnd Earth was glorified.

The arms of the earth broke through the sodAnd 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 skyA 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 LoveAnd Earth was glorified.

An infant memory,A tiny fragile thing,Called into beingBy the brush of a colored wingAcross the canvasOf my tired mind.It grows,A lovely picture of the pastI find,You! Grown to fullest statureOf the perfect soul,The tiny sheltered memoryHas reached at lastIts goal.

A Mother’s kissesAre blessed with loveStraight from the heartOf Heaven above.Love’s Benediction,Her dear caress,The sum of all our happiness.Till we kiss the lipsOf the mate of our soulWe never know LoveHas reached its goal.Caress divine,You reign untilA baby’s kiss seems sweeter still.That beloved blossomA baby’s faceSeems to beLove’s resting place.And a million kissesTenderlyLinger there in ecstacy.Were I told to selectJust one kiss a day;Oh! What a puzzleI would say.Still a baby’s kissI’d choose, you see,For in that wise choiceI’d gain ALL Three.

A Mother’s kissesAre blessed with loveStraight from the heartOf Heaven above.Love’s Benediction,Her dear caress,The sum of all our happiness.

Till we kiss the lipsOf the mate of our soulWe never know LoveHas reached its goal.Caress divine,You reign untilA baby’s kiss seems sweeter still.

That beloved blossomA baby’s faceSeems to beLove’s resting place.And a million kissesTenderlyLinger there in ecstacy.

Were I told to selectJust one kiss a day;Oh! What a puzzleI would say.Still a baby’s kissI’d choose, you see,For in that wise choiceI’d gain ALL Three.

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