O the wondrous golden sunset of the blest October day. 1830 JULIA C.R.  DORR:  Margery Grey, St. 24.

The descending sun
Seems to caress the city that he loves,
And crowns it with the aureole of a saint.
1831
LONGFELLOW:  Michael Angelo, Pt. i., 2.

The sun is going down,
And I must see the glory from the hill.
1832
GEORGE ELIOT:  Agatha.

=Sunshine.=

See the gold sunshine patching,
And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
By its soft brown beard, the moss.
1833
BAILEY:  Festus, Sc. The Surface.

As sunshine broken in the rill,
Though turned astray, is sunshine still.
1834
MOORE:  The Fire-Worshippers.

=Surfeit.=

As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So every scope, by the immoderate use,
Turns to restraint.
1835
SHAKS.:  M. for M., Act i., Sc. 3.

=Surprise.=

The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes
And gaping mouth, that testified surprise.
1836
DRYDEN:  Cymon and Iphigenia, Line 41.

=Suspense.=

For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain A cool suspense, from pleasure and from pain. 1837 POPE:  Eloisa to A., Line 249.

=Suspicion.=

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.
1838
SHAKS.:  3 Henry VI., Act v., Sc. 6.

=Swallow.=

When Autumn scatters his departing gleams,
Warned of approaching Winter, gathered, play
The swallow-people; and tossed wide around
O’er the calm sky, in convolution swift,
The feathered eddy floats; rejoicing once,
Ere to their wintry slumbers they retire.
1839
THOMSON:  Seasons, Autumn, Line 836.

=Swans.=

The swan, with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet.
1840
MILTON:  Par.  Lost, Bk. vii., Line 438.

=Swearing.=

And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again.
1841
SHAKS.:  Rom. and Jul., Act i., Sc. 4.

Take not His name, who made thy mouth, in vain; It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse. 1842 HERBERT:  Temple, Church Porch, St. 10.

=Sweetness.=

Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. 1843 SHAKS.:  Richard II., Act i., Sc. 3.

Married to immortal verse,
Such as the meeting soul may pierce,
In notes with many a winding bout
Of linked sweetness long drawn out.
1844
MILTON:  L’Allegro, Line 135.

=Swiftness.=

I go, I go; look how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.
1845
SHAKS.:  Mid.  N. Dream, Act iii., Sc. 2.

His golden locks time hath to silver turned;
  O time too swift!  O swiftness never ceasing!
1846
GEORGE PEELE:  Sonnet, Polyhymnia.