Poems (Scudder)/My Lady's Vinaigrette
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.