So delicate my hands, and long, <br /> They might have been my pride. <br />And there were those to make them song <br /> Who for their touch had died. <br /> <br />Too frail to cup a heart within, <br /> Too soft to hold the free- <br />How long these lovely hands have been <br /> A bitterness to me!<br /><br />Dorothy Parker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/iseult-of-brittany/
