On a starlit, windy night by the sea, a speaker sits indoors with someone she loves, remembering how unlikely this peace once seemed. A year ago she was in “that horrible cottage upon the Lee,” and now the two are simply sharing camomile tea. Outside, the darkness is filled with playful fairy-tale life—witches, a goblin toasting a bumblebee—but the real magic is inside. The couple feel “snug, so compact, so wise,” and her knee presses against his under the table. Details like the low fire, the dripping tap, and round saucepan shadows make the room feel hushed and safe. The mood is intimate and quietly delighted: after hardship, ordinary domestic comfort becomes its own small enchantment.
Camomile Tea — Summary
Outside the sky is light with stars; There’s a hollow roaring from the sea. And, alas! for the little almond flowers, The wind is shaking the almond tree.
How little I thought, a year ago, In that horrible cottage upon the Lee That he and I should be sitting so And sipping a cup of camomile tea.
Light as feathers the witches fly, The horn of the moon is plain to see; By a firefly under a jonquil flower A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.
We might be fifty, we might be five, So snug, so compact, so wise are we! Under the kitchen-table leg My knee is pressing against his knee.
Our shutters are shut, the fire is low, The tap is dripping peacefully; The saucepan shadows on the wall Are black and round and plain to see.