Dorothy Parker (22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967 / Long Branch / New Jersey)
Poems by Dorothy Parker : 70 / 189
Iseult Of Brittany
So delicate my hands, and long,
They might have been my pride.
And there were those to make them song
Who for their touch had died.
Too frail to cup a heart within,
Too soft to hold the free-
How long these lovely hands have been
A bitterness to me!
Dorothy Parker
Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003
Read poems about / on: pride, song, heart
Poems by Dorothy Parker : 70 / 189
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