Poems (Scudder)/The Swallow Vases
THE SWALLOW VASES
I remember those vases. Never Have I seen another two—They were up in the big north bedroom And were colored a lovely blue
They stood at each end of the mantel On their solid gilt balls of feet, They were patterned with darting swallows Plump-breasted and lithe and sweet.
And a Delft clock stood between them It ticked and would never stop It was painted with stiff Dutch landscapes And a sailing ship on top.
And the bed was an old four-poster And the sheets were always cold And once the hot water bottle Leaked right through the blanket's fold.
And the dark green paint of the shutters Would blister whene'er it rained, And I poked the bumps with my fingers Till all of my nails were stained.
And on winter nights down the chimney Would patter the wet grey snow, And the trolleys groaned and clattered As they toiled through the street below.
Now, I think in my dying hour I shall see those vases two With their circling, darting swallows On a sky of palest blue
And the squat Delft clock between them That ticked and would never stop All painted with queer Dutch landscapes And a sailing ship atop.