Adrienne Rich - The Uncle Speaks in the Drawing Room lyrics

I have seen the mob of late
Standing sullen in the square
Gazing with a sullen stare
At window, balcony and gate
Some have talked in bitter tones
Some have held and fingered stones

These are follies that subside
Let us consider, none the less
Certain frailties of glass
Which, it cannot be denied
Lead in times like these to fear
For crystal vase and chandelier

Not that the missiles will be cast
None as yet dare lift an arm
But the scene recalls a storm
When our grandsire stood aghast
To see his antique ruby bowl
Shivered in a thunder-roll

Let us only bear in mind
How these treasures handed down
From a calmer age passed on
Are in the keeping of our kind
We stand between the dead glass-blowers
And murmurings of missile throwers