fog-smoke

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perch’d for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmer’d the white moonshine.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. IN SEVEN PARTS 1909

He leaned his elbow on the window-sill behind which stood that sealed fountain of lovely sound, looked up at the moon, careless of her or of aught else in heaven or on earth, and sunk into a reverie, in which nothing was consciously present but a stream of fog-smoke that flowed slowly, listlessly across the face of the moon, like the ghost of a dead cataract.

Robert Falconer George MacDonald 1864

Whiles [16] all the night, through fog-smoke white,

Selections from Five English Poets Thomas Gray 1743