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Examples

  • Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm

    The Great Experiment

  • He resumed his seat, nor did he again turn or disturb me by a glance, except indeed for one single instant, when a look, rather solicitous than curious, stole my way — speaking what somehow stilled my heart like “the south-wind quieting the earth.”

    Villette

  • Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm,

    Alfred Tennyson (1809-92)

  • O_f Autumn's sultry south-wind, fraught with death_;

    Horace and His Influence

  • It took my breath away to look at the far-reaching parterre of nodding glories, moved by the breath of the south-wind.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 72, October, 1863

  • But as Mrs. Lita set away the glass, the bees upon the ceiling began to buzz in a most angry manner, and rally about the queen-bee; the south-wind cried round the palace corner; and a strange light, like the sun shining when it rains, threw a lurid glow over the graceful fairy forms.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 03, January, 1858

  • Rather call the dusky and dark-haired Twilight, whose pensive face is limned against the western hills, by the name of that fierce and fervid Noon that stands erect under the hot zenith, instinct with the red blood of a thousand summers, casting her glittering tresses abroad upon the south-wind, and holding in her hands the all-unfolded rose of life.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 16, February, 1859

  • All the bare sprays of its shadowing limes quivered in the warmth of their purple life against a divine depth of heaven, and the woody distances swathed themselves in soft blue smoke before the sighing south-wind.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 75, January, 1864

  • The soft south-wind is very, charming; the northwest-wind, though sharp, is bracing and healthful; but your raw east-winds, -- oh! chain them in the caverns of Æolia, the country of storms.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 75, January, 1864

  • The south-wind sighs a thousand times more mournfully through the keyhole than Thalberg can make it do on the piano.

    The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 18, April, 1859

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