CAMOMILE TEA

CAMOMILE TEA

Outsidethe 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 LeeThat he and I should be sitting soAnd 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 flowerA 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 legMy knee is pressing against his knee.Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,The tap is dripping peacefully;The saucepan shadows on the wallAre black and round and plain to see.1916.

Outsidethe 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 LeeThat he and I should be sitting soAnd 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 flowerA 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 legMy knee is pressing against his knee.Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,The tap is dripping peacefully;The saucepan shadows on the wallAre black and round and plain to see.1916.

Outsidethe 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 LeeThat he and I should be sitting soAnd 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 flowerA 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 legMy knee is pressing against his knee.

Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,The tap is dripping peacefully;The saucepan shadows on the wallAre black and round and plain to see.

1916.


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