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Whisp   Listen
noun
Whisp  n.  See Wisp.






Collaborative International Dictionary of English 0.48








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"Whisp" Quotes from Famous Books



... got on dry ground, Burdale, with a whisp of dry hay and grass, wiped down the horse's legs, and made him look in a more respectable condition than the mud of the marsh had left him in. Burdale, standing up in his stirrups, looked round in every direction to ascertain that no one ...
— John Deane of Nottingham - Historic Adventures by Land and Sea • W.H.G. Kingston

... "'Thou whisp'rest "Balder,"—His wrath fearest;— That gentle god all anger flies. We worship here a Lover, dearest! Our hearts' love is his sacrifice; That god whose brow beams sunshine-splendour, Whose faith lasts through eternity,— Was not his ...
— Myths of the Norsemen - From the Eddas and Sagas • H. A. Guerber

... said, after all this, that men do still believe in such a Deity, I then do say in return, they do not make use of their intellects. The moment we go into a belief beyond what we feel, see and understand, we might as well believe in will-with-a-whisp as in God. But I would fix morality upon a better basis than belief in a Deity. If it has indeed at present no other basis, it is not morality, it is selfishness, it is timidity; it is the hope of reward, it is ...
— Answer to Dr. Priestley's Letters to a Philosophical Unbeliever • Matthew Turner

... often have I paus'd on every charm, The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm, 10 The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topp'd the neighbouring hill, The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whisp'ring lovers made; How often have I bless'd the coming day, 15 When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree; While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as ...
— The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Goldsmith • Oliver Goldsmith

... team-dogs had been too idle that night to dig out proper sleeping-nests for themselves in the snow. A mere circling whisp of head and tail and feet had served them, and the upper half of Jan's magnificent frame lay fully exposed halfway down the slope from Bill's tree. Very deliberately now Bill rose, and moved toward Jan, walking ...
— Jan - A Dog and a Romance • A. J. Dawson

... would be hired dancers to entertain the pleasure-mad throng, a young girl with vine leaves in her hair and a dark young man of barbaric appearance. The girl was clad in a mere whisp of a girdle and shining breast plates, while the man was arrayed chiefly in a coating of dark stain. They swirled over the dance floor to the broken rhythm of the orchestra, now clinging, now apart, working to a climax in which the man poised with his partner perched ...
— Merton of the Movies • Harry Leon Wilson

... beads while she numbered, The baby still slumbered, And smiled in her face, as she bended her knee, Oh! blessed be that warning, My child, thy sleep adorning, For I know that the angels are whisp'ring with thee. ...
— Rhymes Old and New • M.E.S. Wright

... he snuffed no candle; The rats ran in, the rats ran out; And far and near, the drip of water Went whisp'ring about. ...
— Songs of Childhood • Walter de la Mare

... when Philip went to bed, He kiss'd mama, and whisp'ring said, "My dear mama, I never will Make any noise when you ...
— Aunt Kitty's Stories • Various

... thou keepst on torture's rack One who obeys thy laws, yet whisp'ring chides In that thou bidst me boast a joy I lack, And hush the sorrow that ...
— The Countess of Escarbagnas • Moliere

... poverty, no smiling care, No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur, there: There pleasing objects useful thought suggest; The sense is ravish'd, and the soul is blest; On every thorn delightful wisdom grows; In every rill a sweet instruction flows. But some, untaught, o'erhear the whisp'ring rill, In spite of sacred leisure, blockheads still; Nor shoots up folly to a nobler bloom In her own native soil, the drawing-room. The squire is proud to see his coursers strain, Or well-breath'd beagles sweep along the plain. Say, dear Hippolitus, (whose ...
— The Poetical Works of Edward Young, Volume 2 • Edward Young

... no more Our harmless mirth, our wit, and score Distracts the town; when all is spent That the base niggard world hath lent Thy purse, or mine; when the loath'd noise Of drawers, 'prentices and boys Hath left us, and the clam'rous bar Items no pints i' th' Moon or Star; When no calm whisp'rers wait the doors, To fright us with forgotten scores; And such aged long bills carry, As might start an antiquary; When the sad tumults of the maze, Arrests, suits, and the dreadful face Of sergeants are not seen, and we No lawyers' ruffs, or gowns must fee: When all these mulcts are ...
— Poems of Henry Vaughan, Silurist, Volume II • Henry Vaughan

... not to pray, but curse? We hardly thunder thrice a-year; The bolt discharged, the sky grows clear; But every sublunary dowdy, The more she scolds, the more she's cloudy. [How useful were a woman's thunder, If she, like us, would burst asunder! Yet, though her stays hath often cursed her, And, whisp'ring, wish'd the devil burst her: For hourly thund'ring in his face, She ne'er was known to burst a lace.] Some critic may object, perhaps, That clouds are blamed for giving claps; But what, alas! ...
— Poems (Volume II.) • Jonathan Swift

... the storm wind O'erthrows the oak and rages 'mongst the pines, It leaves unharmed the tender floweret, Its thunders change to gentle whisp'ring zephyrs And shall I wilder be than the wild storm? Shall I destroy life's loveliest vernal wreath? In cruelty the boisterous elements Surpassing, shall I break this floweret To touch which destiny's hand has ...
— The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IX - Friedrich Hebbel and Otto Ludwig • Various

... shadowy form, and fleeted by; Anon, before me full it stood: A saintly figure, pale, in pensive mood. Damp horror thrill'd me till he spoke, And accents faint the charm bound silence broke: "Long, trav'ller! ere this region near, Say, did not whisp'rings strange arrest thine ear? My summons 'twas to bid thee come, Where sole the friend of Nature loves to roam. Ages long past, this drear abode To solitude I sanctified, and God: 'Twas here, by love of Wisdom brought, Her truest lore, Self-knowledge, first I sought; ...
— Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and Incidents • William Beckford

... irresolute dilemma, we thought we saw a light; that glimmered for a moment, and as suddenly disappeared. We watched, I know not how long, and again saw it twinkle, though, as we thought, in something of a different direction. Clarke said it was a Will o'the whisp. I replied, it might be one, but, as it seemed the only chance we had, my advice was to continue our walk in that direction; in hopes that, if it were a light proceeding from any house or village, it would become more ...
— The Adventures of Hugh Trevor • Thomas Holcroft

... sonnets, love billets and groan-ets, Ye'll tear the poor Postie to shivers and rags. Noo Jock sends to Jenny, it costs but ae penny, A screed that has near broke the Dictionar's back, Fu' o' dove-in and dear-in, and thoughts on the shearin'!! Nae need noo o' whisp'rin' ayont a wheat stack. Auld drivers were lazy, their mail-coaches crazy, At ilk public-house they stopt for a gill; But noo at the gallop, cheap mail-bags maun wallop. Hurrah for our Postman, the great Roland Hill. "Then send ...
— A Hundred Years by Post - A Jubilee Retrospect • J. Wilson Hyde

... Saviour sings; Catch the joy that music brings; And, with that sweet flood of song, Pour thy whisp'ring praise along. ...
— Old Groans and New Songs - Being Meditations on the Book of Ecclesiastes • F. C. Jennings

... agonize at every pore? Or quick effluvia darting thro' the brain, Die of a rose in aromatic pain? 200 If Nature thunder'd in his op'ning ears, And stunn'd him with the music of the spheres, How would he wish that Heav'n had left him still The whisp'ring Zephyr, and the purling rill? Who finds not Providence all good and wise, 205 Alike in what it ...
— The Rape of the Lock and Other Poems • Alexander Pope



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