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 How shall I wail, that wasn't meant for weeping?
Love has run and left me, oh, what then?
Dream, then, I must, who never can be sleeping;
What if I should meet Love, once again?

What if I met him, walking on the highway?
Let him see how lightly I should care.
He'd travel his way, I would follow my way; Hum a little song, and pass him there.
What if at night, beneath a sky of ashes, He should seek my doorstep, pale with need? There could he lie, and dry would be my lashes; Let him stop his noise, and let me read.
Oh, but I'm gay, that's better off without him; Would he'd come and see me, laughing here.
Lord! Don't I know I'd have my arms about him, Crying to him, "Oh, come in, my dear!"

by Dorothy Parker
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