Sonnet For The End Of A Sequence
by: Dorothy Parker (1893 - 1967)
So take my vows and scatter them to sea;
Who swears the sweetest is no more than human.
And say no kinder words than these of me:
"Ever she longed for peace, but was a woman!
And thus they are, whose silly female dust
Needs little enough to clutter it and bind it,
Who meet a slanted gaze, and ever must
Go build themselves a soul to dwell behind it."
For now I am my own again, my friend!
This scar but points the whiteness of my breast;
This frenzy, like its betters, spins an end,
And now I am my own. And that is best.
Therefore, I am immeasurably grateful
To you, for proving shallow, false, and hateful.
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Portrait, A
Very Short Song, A
Well-Worn Story, A
Ballade Of A Great Weariness
Convalescent
I Know I Have Been Happiest
Light Of Love
One Perfect Rose
Lullaby
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