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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!
Other works by Dorothy Parker...



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