BLOW, blow, Etesian gale! LUCILLA'S cap is straight; Fill fast the flowing sail Of happy man and mate. 'What is it, Dear? -- A plate? Do taste this potted quail!' Blow, blow, Etesian gale! LUCILLA'S cap is straight. 'More sugar? -- No? You're pale. My Own, you work too late! Ah me, if you should fail! I'll see you to the gate.' -- Blow, blow, Etesian gale! LUCILLA'S cap is straight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VISION OF BELSHAZZAR by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW by ROBERT HERRICK THE FOURTH OF JULY by JOHN PIERPONT SACRIFICE by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL INCIDENT CHARACTERISTIC OF A FAVOURITE DOG by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE LOST LADY: SONG by WILLIAM BERKLEY |