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

Homer (Pope)

Arching bow’d, like color’d rainbows o’er a show’ry moon.

As when two vultures on the mountain’s height
Stoop with resounding pinions to the fight;
They cuff, they tear, they raise a screaming cry;
The desert echoes, and the rocks reply:
The warriors thus oppos’d in arms, engage
With equal clamours, and with equal rage.

Drives him, like a lightning.

Easy as swan could bear the snowy fleece.

Fair as a god.

Fair as the new-born star that gilds the morn.

Gloomy as night.

Glow like fiery meteors.

Graceful as Mars.

Like some fair plant beneath my careful hand
He grew, he flourish’d and he grac’d the land.

Incessant streams supplies
Like the red star that fires th’ autumnal skies.

Loud, as the shout encount’ring armies yield.

Loud as the surges when the tempest blows.

Murm’ring they move, as when old ocean roars.

As when a torrent, swell’d with wintry rains,
Pours from the mountains o’er the delug’d plains,
And pines and oaks, from their foundations torn,
A country’s ruins! to the seas are borne:
Fierce Ajax thus o’erwhelms the yielding throng.

Radiant as the queen of love.

Hector rages like the force of fire.

Rejoice like grasshoppers on summer days.

Renowned as the sun.

Shone like Jove’s own lightning.

As wasps, provok’d by children in their play,
Pour from their mansions by the broad high-way,
In swarms the guiltless traveller engage,
Whet all their stings, and call forth all their rage:
All rise in arms, and with a gen’ral cry
Assert their waxen domes, and buzzing progeny.
Thus from the tents the fervent legion swarms,
So loud their clamours, and so keen their arms.

Sweet as honey.

Swift as a flood of fire.

Thick as autumn leaves or driving sand.

Thick as in spring the flow’rs adorn the land,
Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play.

Wedg’d in one body, like a flock of cranes.

As the bees come forth continually in fresh numbers, so fresh bands of Greeks keep continually coming forth from the ships and tents.

Dreadful as the God of war.

Fierce as a whirlwind.

Hateful to me as the gate of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.

As is the race of leaves, such is that of men; some leaves the wind scatters upon the ground, and others the budding wood produces, for they come again in the season of Spring. So is the race of men, one springs up and the other dies.

Rush like a fiery torrent.

Rushed like fairies.

Springeth like Neptune.

Still as tombstone.

Tedious as a twice-told tale.

Unmoved as death.

Valiant as Mars.