cloud-compeller

• “My child,' protested Zeus, the cloud-compeller, 'what sharp judgements you let slip between your teeth …”

  Captain Corelli's Mandolin

• “Professor Morse sets up his telegraph, and mightier than Jupiter, the cloud-compeller, with the lightnings of Heaven flashes intelligence from”

  The International Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, No. 1, August 1850 of Literature, Science and Art.

• “On the other hand, those who appreciated his genius called him "a cloud-compeller of the world of music.”

  The True Citizen, How to Become One

• “But when the cloud-compeller, her bolts laid aside, resorted to tears, mutinous humanity had a right to feel aggrieved, and placed in a false and difficult position.”

  The Golden Age

• “He was evidently a true cloud-compeller, this horrible George.”

  Seventeen

• “Kephalegeretes, a play on Nephelegeretes, the cloud-compeller [back]”

  Pericles

• “He called himself a cloud-compeller: "My gift is to create doubts; but they are no more than doubts.”

  A History of French Literature Short Histories of the Literatures of the World: II.

• “And for the Gig, -- the Gig, -- it is fairly worn out, and such a cloud-compeller must mock that particular symbol no more.”

  The Correspondence of Thomas Carlyle and Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1834-1872, Vol. I

• “He was a youth of the stormiest nature, a genuine cloud-compeller, forever raising storms and whirlwinds merely for the pleasure of directing them; 'haughty he was, aspiring, immeasurably active; fertile in resources as Robinson Crusoe; but also full of quarrel as it is possible to imagine; and in default of any other opponent, he would have fastened a quarrel upon his own shadow for presuming to run before him when going westward in the morning; whereas, in all reason, a shadow, like a dutiful child, ought to keep deferentially in the rear of that majestic substance which is the author of its existence.”

  Continental Monthly , Vol. 5, No. 6, June, 1864 Devoted to Literature and National Policy

• “When I meet the engine with its train of cars moving off with planetary motion -- or, rather, like a comet, for the beholder knows not if with that velocity and with that direction it will ever revisit this system, since its orbit does not look like a returning curve -- with its steam cloud like a banner streaming behind in golden and silver wreaths, like many a downy cloud which I have seen, high in the heavens, unfolding its masses to the light -- as if this traveling demigod, this cloud-compeller, would ere long take the sunset sky for the livery of his train; when”

  Walden

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