Back Aa

Fifteen Thousand Useful Phrases

Close

Like an alien ghost I stole away Like an eagle clutching his prey, his arm swooped down Like an eagle dallying with the wind Like an engine of dread war, he set his shoulder to the mountain-side Like an enraged tiger Like an enthusiast leading about with him an indifferent tourist Like an icy wave, a swift and tragic impression swept through him Like an unbidden guest Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun Like an unseen star of birth Like an unwelcome thought Like apparitions seen and gone Like attempting to number the waves on the snore of a limitless sea Like bells that waste the moments with their loudness Like blasts of trumpets blown in wars Like bright Apollo Like bright lamps, the fabled apples glow Like building castles in the air Like bursting waves from the ocean Like cliffs which have been rent asunder Like clouds of gnats with perfect lineaments [lineaments = distinctive shape] Like cobwebs woven round the limbs of an infant giant Like crystals of snow Like dead lovers who died true Like Death, who rides upon a thought, and makes his way through temple, tower, and palace Like dew upon a sleeping flower Like dining with a ghost Like drawing nectar in a sieve Like earth's decaying leaves Like echoes from a hidden lyre Like echoes from an antenatal dream Like fixed eyes, whence the dear light of sense and thought has fled Like footsteps upon wool Like fragrance from dead flowers Like ghosts, from an enchanter fleeing Like ghosts the sentries come and go Like golden boats on a sunny sea Like great black birds, the demons haunt the woods Like green waves on the sea Like having to taste a hundred exquisite dishes in a single meal Like Heaven's free breath, which he who grasps can hold not Like helpless birds in the warm nest Like iridescent bubbles floating on a foul stream Like kindred drops mingled into one Like laying a burden on the back of a moth Like lead his feet were Like leaves in wintry weather Like leviathans afloat Like lighting a candle to the sun Like making a mountain out of a mole-hill Like mariners pulling the life-boat Like mice that steal in and out as if they feared the light Like mountain over mountain huddled Like mountain streams we meet and part Like music on the water Like notes which die when born, but still haunt the echoes of the hill Like oceans of liquid silver Like one pale star against the dusk, a single diamond on her brow gleamed with imprisoned fire Like one who halts with tired wings Like one who talks of what he loves in dream Like organ music came the deep reply Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream Like phantoms gathered by the sick imagination Like planets in the sky Like pouring oil on troubled waters Like roses that in deserts bloom and die Like rowing upstream against a strong downward current Like scents from a twilight garden Like separated souls Like serpents struggling in a vulture's grasp Like sheep from out the fold of the sky, stars leapt Like ships that have gone down at sea Like shy elves hiding from the traveler's eye Like skeletons, the sycamores uplift their wasted hands Like some grave night thought threading a dream Like some new-gathered snowy hyacinth, so white and cold and delicate it was Like some poor nigh-related guest, that may not rudely be dismist Like some suppressed and hideous thought which flits athwart our musings, but can find no rest within a pure and gentle mind Like some unshriven churchyard thing, the friar crawled Like something fashioned in a dream Like sounds of wind and flood Like splendor-winged moths about a taper Like stepping out on summer evenings from the glaring ball-room upon the cool and still piazza Like straws in a gust of wind Like summer's beam and summer's stream Like sunlight, in and out the leaves, the robins went Like sweet thoughts in a dream <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2