New Love, The
by: Dorothy Parker (1893 - 1967)
If it shine or if it rain,
Little will I care or know.
Days, like drops upon a pane,
Slip, and join, and go.
At my door's another lad;
Here's his flower in my hair.
If he see me pale and sad,
Will he see me fair?
I sit looking at the floor.
Little will I think or say
If he seek another door;
Even if he stay.
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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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