POETRY PARK

SUMMARY
Every love's the love before
In a duller dress.
That's the measure of my lore-
Here's my bitterness:
Would I knew a little more,
Or very much less!

POETRY PARK

MY OWN
Then let them point my every tear,
And let them mock and moan;
Another week, another year,
And I'll be with my own.


Who slumber now by night and day
In fields of level brown;
Whose hearts within their breasts were clay
Before they laid them down.

POETRY PARK

THE FLAW IN PAGANISM
Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)
~Dorothy Parker

PURPOSELY UNGRAMMATICAL LOVE SONG

BY DOROTHY PARKER

There's many and many, and not so far,
Is willing to dry my tears away;
There's many to tell me what you are,
And never a lie to all they say.

It's little the good to hide my head,
It's never the use to bar my door;
There's many as count the tears I shed,
There's mourning hearts for my heart is sore.

There's honester eyes that your blue eyes,
There's better a mile than such as you.
But when did I say that I was wise,
And when did I hope that you were true?