Poems (Scudder)/My Lady's Vinaigrette

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4532425Poems — My Lady's VinaigretteAntoinette Quinby Scudder

MY LADY'S VINAIGRETTE
My lady's heart is set
On a jewelled vinaigrette,
It must be shaped with fantastic grace
Like to some flow'ret's fragile vase
With its curious curve and fret.
And prisoned fast in the tiny space
A perfume more precious yet.

What jewels shall be set
In my lady's vinaigrette?
Chrysoprase green as a seamaid's eyes,
Aqua-marine like the April skies
Moon-flooded—or rarer yet,
Amethyst hued like the drop that lies
In the heart of a violet?

What essence more dainty yet
For my lady's vinaigrette
Than the faint perfume of the brier rose
Or the poignant sweet of the apple-blows
By a Maytime shower wet,
Or the scent that soft as a hushed prayer goes
From the drowsy mignonette?

Then, Dear here's your vinaigrette
Of crystal more fragile yet
Than the promise you gave, and all agleam
With gems as bright as the rosy dream
I cherished when first we met—
It's sweet as the kiss you would not redeem,
As the hours I can't forget.