Additional Poems By Dorothy Parker Essay Research — страница 3

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indiscreet, Of lingering hands, and gently whispered things. And you are pleased with me, and strive anew To sing me sagas of your late delights. Thus do you want me — marveling, gay, and true, Nor do you see my staring eyes of nights. And when, in search of novelty, you stray, Oh, I can kiss you blithely as you go …. And what goes on, my love, while you’re away, You’ll never know. from Enough Rope (1926) Epitaph for a Darling Lady All her hours were yellow sands, Blown in foolish whorls and tassels; Slipping warmly through her hands; Patted into little castles. Shiny day on shiny day Tumble in a rainbow clutter, As she flipped them all away, Sent them spinning down the gutter. Leave for her a red young rose, Go your way, and save your pity; She is happy, for she knows

That her dust is very pretty. from Enough Rope (1926) Finis Now it’s over, and now it’s done; Why does everything look the same? Just as bright, the unheeding sun, — Can’t it see that the parting came? People hurry and work and swear, Laugh and grumble and die and wed, Ponder what they will eat and wear, — Don’t they know that our love is dead? Just as busy, the crowded street; Cars and wagons go rolling on, Children chuckle, and lovers meet, — Don’t they know that our love is gone? No one pauses to pay a tear; None walks slow, for the love that’s through, — I might mention, my recent dear, I’ve reverted to normal, too. from Enough Rope (1926) Interview The ladies men admire, I’ve heard, Would shudder at a wicked word. Their candle gives a single light;

They’d rather stay at home at night. They do not keep awake till three, Nor read erotic poetry. They never sanction the impure, Nor recognize an overture. They shrink from powders and from paints … So far, I’ve had no complaints. from Enough Rope (1926) Love Song My own dear love, he is strong and bold And he cares not what comes after. His words ring sweet as a chime of gold, And his eyes are lit with laughter. He is jubilant as a flag unfurled — Oh, a girl, she’d not forget him. My own dear love, he is all my world, — And I wish I’d never met him. My love, he’s mad, and my love, he’s fleet, And a wild young wood-thing bore him! The ways are fair to his roaming feet, And the skies are sunlit for him. As sharply sweet to my heart he seems As the fragrance of

acacia. My own dear love, he is all my dreams, — And I wish he were in Asia. My love runs by like a day in June, And he makes no friends of sorrows. He’ll tread his galloping rigadoon In the pathway of the morrows. He’ll live his days where the sunbeams start, Nor could storm or wind uproot him. My own dear love, he is all my heart, — And I wish somebody’d shoot him. from Enough Rope (1926) Rondeau Redoubl? The same to me are sombre days and gay. Though joyous dawns the rosy morn, and bright, Because my dearest love is gone away Within my heart is melancholy night. My heart beats low in loneliness, despite That riotous Summer holds the earth in sway. In cerements my spirit is bedight; The same to me are sombre days and gay. Though breezes in the rippling grasses play,

And waves dash high and far in glorious might, I thrill no longer to the sparkling day, Though joyous dawns the rosy morn, and bright. Ungraceful seems to me the swallow’s flight; As well might Heaven’s blue be sullen gray; My soul discerns no beauty in their sight Because my dearest love is gone away. Let roses fling afar their crimson spray, And virgin daisies splash the fields with white, Let bloom the poppy hotly as it may, Within my heart is melancholy night. And this, oh love, my pitiable plight Whenever from my circling arms you stray; This little world of mine has lost its light … I hope to God, my dear, that you can say The same to me. from Enough Rope (1926)