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By Dorothy Parker

There’s a place I know where the birds swing low,
      And wayward vines go roaming,
Where the lilacs nod, and a marble god
      Is pale, in scented gloaming.
And at sunset there comes a lady fair
      Whose eyes are deep with yearning.
By an old, old gate does the lady wait
      Her own true love’s returning.


But the days go by, and the lilacs die,
      And trembling birds seek cover;
Yet the lady stands, with her long white hands
      Held out to greet her lover.
And it’s there she’ll stay till the shadowy day
      A monument they grave her.
She will always wait by the same old gate, —
      The gate her true love gave her.


  • Living
  • Love
  • Relationships

Poet Bio

Dorothy Parker
Dorothy Parker’s biting wit made her a legend, but it also masked her lonely struggle with depression. A member of the Algonquin Round Table group of writers, she wrote criticism for Vogue, Vanity Fair, and later the New Yorker. During the 1930s Parker moved to Hollywood, where she worked on such films as A Star Is Born, for which she won an Academy Award. See More By This Poet

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