Enough Rope/Ballade of a Great Weariness

by Dorothy Parker

Ballade of a Great Weariness

THERE’S little to have but the things I had,
 There’s little to bear but the things I bore.
There’s nothing to carry and naught to add,
 And glory to Heaven, I paid the score.
There’s little to do but I did before,
 There’s little to learn but the things I know;
And this is the sum of a lasting lore:
 Scratch a lover, and find a foe.

And couldn’t it be I was young and mad
 If ever my heart on my sleeve I wore?
There’s many to claw at a heart unclad,
 And little the wonder it ripped and tore.
There’s one that’ll join in their push and roar,
 With stories to jabber, and stones to throw;
He’ll fetch you a lesson that costs you sore—
 Scratch a lover, and find a foe.

So little I’ll offer to you, my lad;
 It’s little in loving I set my store.
There’s many a maid would be flushed and glad,
 And better you’ll knock at a kindlier door.
I’ll dig at my lettuce, and sweep my floor—
 Forever, forever I’m done with woe—
And happen I’ll whistle about my chore,
 “Scratch a lover and find a foe.”

L’ENVOI:
Oh, beggar or prince, no more, no more!
 Be off and away with your strut and show.
The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core—
 Scratch a lover, and find a foe!

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