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Afternoon by Dorothy Parker


When I am old, and comforted,
  And done with this desire,
With Memory to share my bed
  And Peace to share my fire,

I’ll comb my hair in scalloped bands
;;Beneath my laundered cap,
And watch my cool and fragile hands
;;Lie light upon my lap.

And I will have a sprigged gown
;;With lace to kiss my throat;
I’ll draw my curtain to the town,
  And hum a purring note.

And I’ll forget the way of tears,
;;And rock, and stir my tea.
But oh, I wish those blessed years
;;Were further than they be!