Back of my back, they talk of me, <br /> Gabble and honk and hiss; <br />Let them batten, and let them be- <br /> Me, I can sing them this: <br /> <br />"Better to shiver beneath the stars, <br /> Head on a faithless breast, <br />Than peer at the night through rusted bars, <br /> And share an irksome rest. <br /> <br />"Better to see the dawn come up, <br /> Along of a trifling one, <br />Than set a steady man's cloth and cup <br /> And pray the day be done. <br /> <br />"Better be left by twenty dears <br /> Than lie in a loveless bed; <br />Better a loaf that's wet with tears <br /> Than cold, unsalted bread." <br /> <br />Back of my back, they wag their chins, <br /> Whinny and bleat and sigh; <br />But better a heart a-bloom with sins <br /> Than hearts gone yellow and dry!<br /><br />Dorothy Parker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-whistling-girl/
