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Thrid   Listen
verb
Thrid  v. t.  (past & past part. thridded; pres. part. thridding)  
1.
To pass through in the manner of a thread or a needle; to make or find a course through; to thread. "Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair." "And now he thrids the bramble bush." "I began To thrid the musky-circled mazes."
2.
To make or effect (a way or course) through something; as, to thrid one's way through a wood.






Collaborative International Dictionary of English 0.48








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"Thrid" Quotes from Famous Books



... pierced him to the quick; From the herds he parted quick, Struck into the greenwood thick. Quickly stepped his gallant steed, Bore him fairly off full speed. Then he spake, three words he said: "Nicolette, O lithe-limbed maid! For your sake I thrid the glade! Stag nor boar I now pursue, But the sleuth I track for you! Your bright eyes and body lithe, Your sweet words and laughter blithe, Wounded have my heart to death. So God, the strong Father will, I shall look upon you still, ...
— Aucassin and Nicolette - translated from the Old French • Anonymous

... till him bundyn be. He speryt the conwyne off the land, And quha the castell had in hand. And thai him tauld all halily; And syne amang them priuely Thai ordanyt, that he still suld be In hiddillis, and in priwete, Till Palme Sonday, that wes ner hand, The thrid day eftyr folowand. For than the folk off that countre Assemblyt at the kyrk wald be; And thai, that in the castell wer, Wald als be thar, thar palmys to ber, As folk that had na dreid off ill; For thai thoucht all wes at thair will. Than suld he cum with his twa men. Bot, for that men suld nocht ...
— Waverley Volume XII • Sir Walter Scott

... even to our reluctance that we could not stay in Naples forever, and the next morning we took the train for Rome. The Villa Reale put on its most alluring charm to him that ran down before breakfast to thrid once more its pathways bordered with palms and fountains and statues; the bay beside it purpled and twinkled in the light that made silver of the fishermen's sails; far away rose Vesuvius with his nightcap of mist still hanging ...
— Italian Journeys • William Dean Howells



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