BLOW, wind, blow, Sing through yard and shroud; Pipe it shrilly and loud, Aloft as well as below; Sing in my sailor's ear The song I sing to you, "Come home, my sailor true, For Christmas that comes so near." Go, wind, go, Hurry his home-bound sail, Through gusts that are edged with hail, Through winter, and sleet, and snow; Song, in my sailor's ear, Your shrilling and moans shall be, For he knows they sing him to me And Christmas that comes so near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON VIOLET'S WAFERS, SENT ME WHEN I WAS ILL by SIDNEY LANIER STREET CRIES: 6. TO RICHARD WAGNER by SIDNEY LANIER WITH CHAOS IN EACH KISS by TIMOTHY LIU THE DUNES OF INDIANA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |