The Choice

He'd have given me rolling lands,
Houses of marble, and billowing farms,
Pearls, to trickle between my hands,
Smoldering rubies, to circle my arms.
You- you'd only a lilting song,
Only a melody, happy and high,
You were sudden and swift and strong-
Never a thought for another had I.

He'd have given me laces rare,
Dresses that glimmered with frosty sheen,
Shining ribbons to wrap my hair,
Horses to draw me, as fine as a queen.
You- you'd only to whistle low,
Gayly I followed wherever you led.
I took you, and I let him go-
Somebody ought to examine my head!

More poems by Dorothy Parker

After Spanish Proverb

Oh, mercifullest one of all, / Oh, generous as dear,

Dorothy Parker

The False Friends

They laid their hands upon my head, / They stroked my cheek and brow;

Dorothy Parker

Song Of One Of The Girls

Here in my heart I am Helen; / I'm Aspasia and Hero, at least.

Dorothy Parker

The Thin Edge

With you, my heart is quiet here, / And all my thoughts are cool as rain.

Dorothy Parker

All poems by Dorothy Parker →