Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade, Trees where you sit, shall crowd into a shade: Where'er you tread, the blushing flowers shall rise, And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.
She comes majestic with her swelling sails, The gallant Ship: along her watery way, Homeward she drives before the favouring gales; Now flirting at their length the streamers play, And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.Robert Southey
The Hawthorn whitens; and the juicy Groves Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees, Till the whole leafy Forest stands displayed, In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales.james thomson
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