He'd have given me rolling lands, Houses of marble, and billowing farms, Pearls, to trickle between my hands, Smoldering rubies, to circle my arms. You- you'd only a lilting song, Only a melody, happy and high, You were sudden and swift and strong- Never a thought for another had I. He'd have given me laces rare, Dresses that glimmered with frosty sheen, Shining ribbons to wrap my hair, Horses to draw me, as fine as a queen. You- you'd only to whistle low, Gayly I followed wherever you led. I took you, and I let him go- Somebody ought to examine my head! Dorothy Parker