| Ample as the wants of man.|| 1|
| Arise like Farianata from his fiery tomb.|| 2|
| Spelling it backward, like a Hebrew book.|| 3|
| Beautiful as May.|| 4|
| Beautiful as morning.|| 5|
|Bends and sinks like a column of sand|
In the whirlwind of his great despair.
| Bending like a wand of willow.|| 7|
| Bent and trembled like the rushes.|| 8|
| Thou hast betrayed thy secret as a bird betrays her nest, by striving to conceal it.|| 9|
| Bewailing and tolling within like a funeral bell.|| 10|
| Bitter as home-brewed ale.|| 11|
| Blank as the eyeballs of the dead.|| 12|
| Bleak and bare|
Like furnace-chimneys in the air.
Like the soft aromatic gales
That meet the mariner, who sails
Through the Moluccas, and the seas
That wash the shores of Celebes.
| Blue were her eyes as fairy-flax.|| 15|
| Blurted it out like a school-boy.|| 16|
| Like an antelope he bounded.|| 17|
|Brightened as in sunshine gleam the ripples|
That the cold wind makes in rivers.
| Brown as nut.|| 19|
| Cheeks like the dawn of day.|| 20|
| Clear as running waters are.|| 21|
|The hooded clouds, like friars,|
Tell their beads in drops of rain.
|As the birds come in the Spring,|
We know not from where;
As the stars come at evening
From depths of the air;
As the rain comes from the cloud,
And the brook from the ground;
As suddenly, low or loud,
Out of silence a sound;
As the grape comes to the vine,
The fruit to the tree;
As the wind comes to the pine,
And the tide to the sea;
As come the white sails of ships
Oer the oceans verge;
As comes the smile to the lips,
The foam to the surge;
So come to the Poet his songs,
All hitherward blown
From the misty realm, that belongs
To the vast Unknown.
| Crimson, as if blood were mingled in it.|| 24|
| Some critics are like chimney-sweepers; they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from the nests above; they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing out from the top of the house, as if they had built it.|| 25|
| A young critic is like a boy with a gun; he often fires at every living thing he sees; he thinks only of his own skill, not of the pain he is giving.|| 26|
like a wild beast in his lair.|| 27|
| Crying, like a wretched Shangodaya.|| 28|
| Danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams dance on the waves of the sea.|| 29|
| Darkness like the day of doom.|| 30|
| Dart like swallows.|| 31|
| Lies dead,|
As a corse on the sea-shore, whose spirit has fled.
| Dim and sweet as moonlight in a solitary street.|| 33|
|From heaven down-cast|
Like red leaves he swept away.
| Wafted downward, like the painted leaves of Autumn.|| 35|
|The snows are driven and drifted,|
Like Tithonus beard
Streaming dishevelled and white.
| Drift as wrecks on the tide.|| 37|
as wells drink in November, when it rains.|| 38|
| O lovely eyes of azure,|
Clear as the waters of a brook that run
Limpid and laughing in the summer sun!
| I dislike an eye that twinkles like a star. Those only are beautiful which, like the planets, have a steady, lambent lightare luminous, but not sparkling.|| 40|
| Eyes dilated, as if the spirit-world were open before him, and some beauteous vision were standing there.|| 41|
As shadows passing into deeper shade.
| Faded slowly from the sight as blushes from the cheek.|| 43|
| Fell, like a flail on the garnered grain.|| 44|
| Flare like torches.|| 45|
| Flashed like a falchion from its sheath.|| 46|
| Floats like an atmosphere.|| 47|
| Sparks that fly|
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
| Shall fold their tents like the Arabs and as silently steal away.|| 49|
| Like a river, frozen and star-lit, gleamed his coat of mail.|| 50|
| Gleamed like a grate of brass.|| 51|
| Gleamed on the hillside like a patch of snow.|| 52|
| Glistened like the dews of morn.|| 53|
| Glistened like the sun in water.|| 54|
|Gone was every trace of sorrow,|
As the fog from off the river,
As the mist from off the meadow.
| Good as bread.|| 56|
| Gray, like a shield embossed in silver.|| 57|
| Our hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast.|| 58|
| Humming like a hornet.|| 59|
| Jargoning like a foreigner at his food.|| 60|
| A lamentation,|
Like some old prophet wailing.
|A quiet smile played around his lips,|
As the eddies and dimples of the tide play round the bows of ships.
|Looms in the distant landscape of the Past,|
Like a burnt tower upon a blackened heath.
| Great men stand like solitary towers!|| 64|
| Mantle like a flame of fire.|| 65|
|Moan, like the voice of one who crieth|
In the wilderness alone.
| Mope like birds that are changing feather.|| 67|
|Their forms and features multiplied,|
As the reflection of a light
Between two burnished mirrors gleams,
Or lamps upon a bridge at night
Stretch on and on before the sight,
Till the long vista endless seems.
| Murmur as of waves upon a seashore.|| 69|
| Murmur like the rustle of dead leaves.|| 70|
|He sits muttering in his beard. His voice|
Is like a river flowing underground.
| Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms.|| 72|
| Old as Priam.|| 73|
Like a snow-covered pine in the vast
Dim forests of Orkadale.
| Painted like the leaves of Autumn.|| 75|
| Painted like the sky of morning.|| 76|
| Like the birch-leaf palpitated.|| 77|
| Passed like the mournful cry of sunward sailing cranes.|| 78|
| When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.|| 79|
like sacks of wheat in a granary.|| 80|
| Pliant as a wand of willow.|| 81|
| Pressed in my heart, like flowers within a book.|| 82|
| Quiet as a heart that beats no more.|| 83|
| Quiet as the tranquil sky.|| 84|
| Recoiled from its purpose, as from the verge of a crag.|| 85|
| Resounding, like the blast of funeral trumpets.|| 86|
|Through the driving mists revealed,|
Like the lifting of the Host, by incense-cloud almost concealed.
| Rising like the ruined arch of some aerial aqueduct.|| 88|
| Roars like a flame that is fanned.|| 89|
| Rushed like a man insane.|| 90|
| Rushed as a wind that is keen and cold and relentless.|| 91|
|Like prisoners from the dungeons gloom,|
Like birds escaping from the snare,
Like schoolboys at the hour of play,
All left at once the pent-up room,
And rushed into the open air.
|The dead laurels of the dead|
Rustle for a moment only,
Like withered leaves in lonely
Churchyards as some passing tread.
| Scattering drops like beads of wampum.|| 94|
| Scattered were they, like flakes of snow.|| 95|
| Scattered wide|
Like silt and seaweed by the force and fluctuations of the tide.
| The glory of the morn is shed, like a celestial benison.|| 97|
| Shine as immortal poems.|| 98|
| Shook like windy weeds.|| 99|
| Sifted like great snowdrifts oer the landscape.|| 100|
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.
| Soft and still, like birds half hidden in a nest.|| 102|
| Spotless as lilies.|| 103|
| Stood like the Law and Gospel, one with the sanction of earth and one with the blessing of heaven.|| 104|
| Start as flames from ashes.|| 105|
| Stately as a deer with antlers.|| 106|
| Strong as iron bands.|| 107|
| Struggled together like foes in a burning city.|| 108|
| Sudden sound as of a bowstring snapped in air.|| 109|
| Sunday is like a stile between the fields and toil, where we can kneel and pray, or sit and meditate.|| 110|
| Your supper is like the Hidalgos dinner; very little meat, and a great deal of tablecloth.|| 111|
| Swart as the night.|| 112|
| Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows.|| 113|
| Swift as a flash.|| 114|
| Swing like the compass in its brazen ring.|| 115|
| Tender as a summer night.|| 116|
| Trembling like a steed before the start.|| 117|
|Like Dians kiss, unasked, unsought|
Love gives itself, but is not bought.
| Unfolding, like the tree-tops of the forest, ever rising, rising.|| 119|
|Upstarting wild and haggard,|
Like a man from dreams awakened.
|A vague presentment of impending doom,|
Like ghostly footsteps in a vacant room.
| Vague surmise|
Shines in the fathers gentle eyes,
As firelight on a window-pane
Glimmers and vanishes away.
| Vanished like a fleet of cloud, like a passing trumpet-blast, are those splendors of the past.|| 123|
| Waited with a frown,|
Like some old champion of romance,
Who, having thrown his gauntlet down,
Expectant leans upon his lance.
| Waste like a wilderness.|| 125|
| Waving like a hand that beckons.|| 126|
| Whimpered like a woman.|| 127|
| Whirled it round him like a rattler.|| 128|
| White as a cloud that floats and fades in the air.|| 129|
| White as a schoolboys paper kite.|| 130|
| White as seas fog.|| 131|
| White as the gleam of a receding sail.|| 132|
| Wild and woful, like the cloud rack of a tempest.|| 133|