A
A blind rage like a fire swept over him
A book that rends and tears like a broken saw
A breath of melancholy made itself felt like a chill and sudden gust from some unknown sea
A cloud in the west like a pall creeps upward
A cloud like a flag from the sky
A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree
A confused mass of impressions, like an old rubbish-heap
A cry as of a sea-bird in the wind
A dead leaf might as reasonably demand to return to the tree
A drowsy murmur floats into the air like thistledown
A face as imperturbable as fate
A face as pale as wax
A face tempered like steel
A fatigued, faded, lusterless air, as of a caged creature
A few pens parched by long disuse
A figure like a carving on a spire
A fluttering as of blind bewildered moths
A giant galleon overhead, looked like some misty monster of the deep
A glacial pang of pain like the stab of a dagger of ice frozen from a poisoned well
A glance that flitted like a bird
A great moon like a red lamp in the sycamore
A grim face like a carved mask
A hand icily cold and clammy as death
A heart from which noble sentiments sprang like sparks from an anvil
A jeweler that glittered like his shop
A lady that lean'd on his arm like a queen in a fable of old fairy days
A life, a Presence, like the air
A life as common and brown and bare as the box of earth in the window there
A light wind outside the lattice swayed a branch of roses to and fro,
shaking out their perfume as from a swung censer
A lightning-phrase, as if shot from the quiver of infallible wisdom
A list of our unread books torments some of us like a list of murders
A little breeze ran through the corn like a swift serpent
A little weed-clogged ship, gray as a ghost
A long slit of daylight like a pointing finger
A memory like a well-ordered cupboard
A mighty wind, like a leviathan, plowed the brine
A mind very like a bookcase
A mystery, soft, soothing and gentle, like the whisper of a child murmuring its happiness in its sleep
A name which sounds even now like the call of a trumpet
A note of despairing appeal which fell like a cold hand upon one's living soul
A purpose as the steady flame
A question deep almost as the mystery of life
A quibbling mouth that snapped at verbal errors like a lizard catching flies
A radiant look came over her face, like a sudden burst of sunshine on a cloudy day
