Dorothy Parker

(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967 / Long Branch / New Jersey)

The White Lady - Poem by Dorothy Parker

I cannot rest, I cannot rest
In straight and shiny wood,
My woven hands upon my breast--
The dead are all so good!

The earth is cool across their eyes;
They lie there quietly.
But I am neither old nor wise;
They do not welcome me.

Where never I walked alone before,
I wander in the weeds;
And people scream and bar the door,
And rattle at their beads.

We cannot rest, we never rest
Within a narrow bed
Who still must love the living best--
Who hate the pompous dead!


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Read poems about / on: hate, people, alone



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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