| C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917. | | | | Zephyrs |
| | | Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows. Pope. | 1 |
| Lull’d by soft zephyrs thro’ the broken pane. Pope. | 2 |
| | The balmy zephyrs, silent since her death, |
| Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath. |
Pope. | 3 |
| | Soft o’er the shrouds aerial whispers breathe, |
| That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath. |
Pope. | 4 |
| Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows. Gray. | 5 |
| | Let Zephyr only breathe |
| And with her tresses play. |
Drummond. | 6 |
| | And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest |
| The silver clouds. |
Keats. | 7 |
| | And soften’d sounds along the waters die: |
| Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play. |
Pope. | 8 |
| | And soon |
| Their hushing dances languished to a stand, |
| Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon, |
| All on their drooping stems they sink unfanned. |
Hood. | 9 | | |
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