A blind rage like a fire swept over him
A book that rends and tears like a broken saw
A breath of melancholy made itself felt like a chill and sudden gust from some unknown sea
A cloud in the west like a pall creeps upward
A cloud like a flag from the sky
A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree
A confused mass of impressions, like an old rubbish-heap
A cry as of a sea-bird in the wind
A dead leaf might as reasonably demand to return to the tree
A drowsy murmur floats into the air like thistledown