1926 – In Memoriam Rudolph Valentino

He is not dead for whom the thousands weep. The strong young body only lies at rest, The dark eyes closed in lovely ancient sleep, The warm heart stilled within the quiet breast, Where trees and flowers fragrant vigil keep. Above the couch of their beloved guest. As gently as Loves tender hands, earth lies on his dark head and leaves his spirit free. To win the greater goals of Paradise, and know the triumphs of that mystery which, veiled beyond our mute, horizoned skies, grants youths brief flame immortality.