Sayings that stir the blood like the sound of a trumpet
Scattered love as stars do light
Sea-gulls flying like flakes of the sea
Sentences level and straight like a hurled lance
Shadowy faces, known in dreams, pass as petals upon a stream
Shake like an aspen leaf
Shaken off like a nightmare
Shapeless as a sack of wool
Shattered like so much glass
She brightened like a child whose broken toy is glued together
She could summon tears as one summons servants
She danced like a flower in the wind
She disclaimed the weariness that dragged upon her spirits like leaden weights
She exuded a faint and intoxicating perfume of womanliness, like a crushed herb
She felt like an unrepentant criminal
She fled like a spirit from the room
She flounders like a huge conger-eel in an ocean of dingy morality
She gave him a surprised look, like a child catching an older person in a foolish statement
She gave off antipathies as a liquid gives off vapor
She has great eyes like the doe
She heard him like one in a dream
She let the soft waves of her deep hair fall like flowers from Paradise
She looked like a tall golden candle
She looked like the picture of a young rapt saint, lost in heavenly musing
She moved like mirth incarnate
She nestles like a dove
She played with a hundred possibilities fitfully and discursively as a musician runs his fingers over a key-board
She played with grave cabinets as a cat plays with a mouse
She saw this planet like a star hung in the glistening depths of even
She seemed as happy as a wave that dances on the sea
She shall be sportive as the fawn
She stood silent a moment, dropping before him like a broken branch
She that passed had lips like pinks
She walked like a galley-slave
She walks in beauty like the night
She was as brilliant, and as hard too, as electric light
She was silent, standing before him like a little statuesque figure
Shining like the dewy star of dawn
Shivering pine-trees, like phantoms
Showy as damask-rose and shy as musk
Shrill as the loon's call
Shrivel like paper thrust into a flame
Shy as the squirrel
Sights seen as a traveling swallow might see them on the wing
Silence deep as death
Silence now is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er the still and pulseless world
Silence that seemed heavy and dark; like a passing cloud
Sinks clamorous like mill-waters at wild play
Sits like the maniac on his fancied throne
Skies as clear as babies' eyes