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...THE SHEPHERD BOY'S SONG, FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN WRITTEN IN NORTHAMPTON COUNTY ASYLUM by JOHN CLARE EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: 'EQUALITY OF SACRIFICE' by RUDYARD KIPLING SONNET: 138 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ON A MOURNER by ALFRED TENNYSON |