Frank J. Wilstach, comp. A Dictionary of Similes. 1916.

Emily Brontë

Her bright cheek, as soft and pure in its bloom as a wild rose.

Fixed as the orb of the burning sun.

Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again,
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now,
And deck thee with the holly’s sheen,
That, when December blights thy brow
He still may leave thy garland green.

Lovely as an angel’s dream.

Mute as mice.

Pallid as coffined clay.

Revelled in my changeful dreams, like petrel on the sea.

Scowled like a thunder cloud.

Uncomplaining as a lamb.

All vanished, like a vision vain.

White as the sun.

Worthless as withered weeds, or idlest froth amid the boundless main.

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