They Part by Dorothy Parker

And if, my friend, you'd have it end,
There's naught to hear or tell.
But need you try to black my eye
In wishing me farewell.

Though I admit an edged wit
In woe is warranted,
May I be frank? . . . Such words as "-"
Are better left unsaid.

There's rosemary for you and me;
But is it usual, dear,
To hire a man, and fill a van
By way of souvenir?

by Dorothy Parker

Other poems by 'Dorothy Parker'

A Certain Lady

A Dream Lies Dead

A Fairly Sad Tale

A Pig's-Eye View Of Literature

A Portrait

A Very Short Song

A Well-Worn Story

After Spanish Proverb

Afternoon

Alexandre Dumas And His Son

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