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


Gleams like a naked sword.

Gleamed like fireflies.

Gleamed like gold from the evening rays.

Gleam like sunny heavens.

Gleaming like the chamomile.
—Arabian Nights

Gleamed as the lightning glitters against the murky night.
—Edwin Arnold

Gleamed like a praying-carpet at the foot of those divinest altars.
—Edwin Arnold

Gleam like glass.
—Philip James Bailey

Gleaming like the white moonlight.
—Philip James Bailey

Gleaming like a flash of lightning.
—Honoré de Balzac

Gleamed upon the water like a bride at her looking-glass.
—R. D. Blackmore

Gleamed like star-motes in the milky-way.
—Mathilde Blind

Gleameth like a seraph sword.
—Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Like gates of hell.
—Robert Browning

Gleamed like Saint Sophia’s dome when all the faithful troop to morning prayer.
—Robert Browning

Gleam … like the phosphor of the foam upon the shore.
—Robert Buchanan

Gleams, like a seraph from the sky descending.
—Lord Byron

Gleams like flint.
—Madison Cawein

Like the bright rainbow on an evening stream.
—Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Golden gleams,
Like the bright miracles we see in dreams.
—Julia C. R. Dorr

Gleaming like shot silk in the sunshine.
—Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Gleamed like the flocks of cloudlets bright in sunny air at morn.
—Frederick William Faber

Gleamed … like sapphires in the mid-day hours.
—Paul Ferroll

Gleamed as funeral lamps in a sepulchral chamber.
—Gustave Flaubert

The sand … gleamed like mica dust.
—Théphile Gautier

Gleamed … like a star beam, one star beam of some high predominant star.
—Arthur Henry Hallam

Gleamed and shone, like a splinter of daylight downward thrown.
—William Wallace Harney

Gleams, like to the angel’s sword.
—Charles Harpur

Gleams like an angel-market.
—William Ernest Henley

Gleams like a diamond on a dancing girl.
—Oliver Wendell Holmes

Gleam like gold.
—Philander Chase Johnson

Gleaming like rose-hued pearls below the wave.
—Frances Anne Kemble

Gleam like pale wells of precious malachite.
—Frances Anne Kemble

Gleams like a dream in his face.
—Henry. C. Kendall

Gleam like the golden flash of a moon-lit stream.
—Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Gleams like the taper in the blaze of day.
—Robert Lloyd

Like a river, frozen and star-lit, gleamed his coat of mail.
—Henry W. Longfellow

Gleamed like a grate of brass.
—Henry W. Longfellow

Gleamed on the hillside like a patch of snow.
—Henry W. Longfellow

Gleam, like midnight’s boreal dances.
—James Russell Lowell

Gleamed like moonshine on wet sands.
—George MacDonald

Gleam, like drifted gold in summer’s cloudless beam.
—James Montgomery

Gleam’d, like the meteors of a northern sky.
—James Montgomery

Gleam like the pearls that sprinkle
A virgin’s golden hair.

Gleamed like the young moon’s crescent.

Gleam, like a glow-worm in the night.
—T. Buchanan Read

Gleams like a rising harvest moon.
—T. Buchanan Read

Gleams like the galleon rare of an Argonaut’s dreams.
—James Whitcomb Riley

Gleams like a beacon from afar.
—Christina Georgina Rossetti

Like islands on a dark blue sea.
—Percy Bysshe Shelley

Gleam like the white effigies on tombs in dim cathedrals.
—Alexander Smith

Lurid gleam, like the reflection of a sulphur fire.
—Robert Southey

Gleams as a ghost’s glory in dreams.
—Algernon Charles Swinburne

Gleam broad as the brows of the billows that brighten the storm with their crests.
—Algernon Charles Swinburne

Gleam like a cloud the westering sun stains red
Till all the blood of day’s blithe heart be bled
And all night’s heart requickened.
—Algernon Charles Swinburne

Gleams like spring’s green bloom on boughs all gaunt and gnarry.
—Algernon Charles Swinburne

Like the green heights of sunset heaven.
—Algernon Charles Swinburne

Gleam like a brooklet, whose bed is all unshaded.
—Carmen Sylva

Gleam like sea-mists o’er the plain.
—Bayard Taylor

Gleamed like fancy made of golden air.
—Alfred Tennyson

Gleam like the rosy east.
—William Thomson

Gleamed like a satin ribbon in the sun, or like the pearly inside of a shell.
—Henry D. Thoreau

Gleaming like a sea.

Gleams like an angry lion’s eye.
—Oscar Wilde