Refreshing as descending rains to sunburnt climes
Remote as the hidden star
Restless as a blue-bottle fly on a warm summer's day
Revealed his doings like those of bees in a glass hive
Rich as the dawn
Ride like the wind through the night
Rivers that like silver threads ran through the green and gold of pasture lands
Roared like mountain torrents
Rolling it under the tongue as a sweet morsel
Round my chair the children run like little things of dancing gold