Day-Dreams
We'd build a little bungalow,If you and I were one,And carefully we'd plan it, soWe'd get the morning sun.I'd rise each day at rosy dawnAnd bustle gaily down;In evening's cool, you'd spray the lawnWhen you came back from town.
A little cook-book I should buy,Your dishes I'd prepare;And though they came out black and dry,I know you wouldn't care.How valiantly I'd strive to learn,Assured you'd not complain!And if my finger I should burn,You'd kiss away the pain.
I'd buy a little scrubbing-brushAnd beautify the floors;I'd warble gaily as a thrushAbout my little chores.But though I'd cook and sew and scrub,A higher life I'd find;I'd join a little women's clubAnd cultivate my mind.
If you and I were one, my dear,A model life we'd lead.We'd travel on, from year to year,At no increase of speed.Ah, clear to me the vision ofThe things that we should do!And so I think it best, my love,To string along as two.
Words in this poem
- bungalow n.
- A thatched or tiled house or cottage, of a single story, usually surrounded by a veranda. [India] [Bengalee bangla]
- gaily adv.
- Merrily; showily. See gaily. [From Gay.]
- warble v. t.
- To sing in a trilling, quavering, or vibratory manner; to modulate with turns or variations; to trill; as, certain birds are remarkable for warbling their songs. [OE. werbelen, OF. werbler; of Teutonic origin; cf. G. wirbeln to turn, to warble, D. wervelen, akin to E. whirl. See Whirl.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Day-Dreams is in the public domain. This text is taken from Enough Rope: Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #68353; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Dorothy Parker, Day-Dreams, in Enough Rope (1926), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #68353, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/parker-enough-rope/day-dreams.html, id L27364.
Form and metre
Day-Dreams is 32 lines in 4 stanzas of 8 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABABCDCD. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCDCD bungalowA · oneB · soA · sunB · dawnC · downD · lawnC · townD
- 2 ABABCDCD buyA · prepareB · dryA · careB · learnC · complainD · burnC · painD
- 3 ABABCDCD brushA · floorsB · thrushA · choresB · scrubC · findD · clubC · mindD
- 4 ABABCDCD dearA · leadB · yearA · speedB · ofC · doD · loveC · twoD
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| We'd build a little bungalow, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| If you and I were one, | 6 | ······ |
| And carefully we'd plan it, so | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| We'd get the morning sun. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| I'd rise each day at rosy dawn | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And bustle gaily down; | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| In evening's cool, you'd spray the lawn | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| When you came back from town. | 6 | ······ |
| A little cook-book I should buy, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Your dishes I'd prepare; | 6 | ·/˘·˘/ |
| And though they came out black and dry, | 8 | ········ |
| I know you wouldn't care. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| How valiantly I'd strive to learn, | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| Assured you'd not complain! | 6 | ˘/··˘/ |
| And if my finger I should burn, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| You'd kiss away the pain. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| I'd buy a little scrubbing-brush | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And beautify the floors; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| I'd warble gaily as a thrush | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| About my little chores. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| But though I'd cook and sew and scrub, | 8 | ········ |
| A higher life I'd find; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| I'd join a little women's club | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And cultivate my mind. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| If you and I were one, my dear, | 8 | ········ |
| A model life we'd lead. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| We'd travel on, from year to year, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| At no increase of speed. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| Ah, clear to me the vision of | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The things that we should do! | 6 | ······ |
| And so I think it best, my love, | 8 | ········ |
| To string along as two. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.