Iseult Of Brittany

Dorothy Parker

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!

Next 10 Poems

• Dorothy Parker : Landscape
• Dorothy Parker : Liebestod
• Dorothy Parker : Light Of Love
• Dorothy Parker : Lines On Reading Too Many Poets
• Dorothy Parker : Little Words
• Dorothy Parker : Love Song
• Dorothy Parker : Lullaby
• Dorothy Parker : Men
• Dorothy Parker : Midnight
• Dorothy Parker : Mortal Enemy

Previous 10 Poems

• Dorothy Parker : Inventory
• Dorothy Parker : Interview
• Dorothy Parker : Interior
• Dorothy Parker : Inscription For The Ceiling Of A Bedroom
• Dorothy Parker : Indian Summer
• Dorothy Parker : Incurable
• Dorothy Parker : I Shall Come Back
• Dorothy Parker : I Know I Have Been Happiest
• Dorothy Parker : Hearthside
• Dorothy Parker : Healed