Dorothy Parker

The Whistling Girl

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