There were opiates for remorse, drugs that could lull
the moral sense to sleep.
And as soon as there was a lull
you could hear his high-pitched yells of encouragement to Kala Nag, above the trumpeting and crashing, and snapping of ropes, and groans of the tethered elephants.
The night was, as has been said, dark, and they had happened to reach a spot in among some tall trees, whose leaves stirred by a gentle breeze made a low ominous sound; so that, what with the solitude, the place, the darkness, the noise of the water, and the rustling of the leaves, everything inspired awe and dread; more especially as they perceived that the strokes did not cease, nor the wind lull
, nor morning approach; to all which might be added their ignorance as to where they were.
He drew his bow firmly and, taking advantage of a momentary lull
in the breeze, launched the arrow straight and true-singing across the range to the center of the target.
So far is the general sense of mankind from corresponding with the tenets of those who endeavor to lull
asleep our apprehensions of discord and hostility between the States, in the event of disunion, that it has from long observation of the progress of society become a sort of axiom in politics, that vicinity or nearness of situation, constitutes nations natural enemies.
He took the glasses from me, and at the next lull
of the snow swept the whole space below us.
And farther on, from a lull
near East Barnet, they saw two trains running slowly one after the other without signal or order--trains swarming with people, with men even among the coals behind the engines--going northward along the Great Northern Railway.
Do not lull
yourself in security, or you will be lost; but, on the contrary--and it is I who say it--see enemies in all directions.
There was a lull
in the noises of insects as if they had bowed their beaks and were making a devotional pause.
Then, in a lull
, P-'s protesting innocence would become audible:
He could do nothing but comfort her, and lull
her into dreaming on.
Why here the wind has been all day at the south, and now there’s a lull
, as if the last blast was out of the bellows; and there’s a streak along the mountains, to the northard, that, just now, wasn’t wider than the bigness of your hand; and then the clouds drive afore it as you’d brail a mainsail, and the stars are heaving in sight, like so many lights and beacons, put there to warn us to pile on the wood; and, if so be that I’m a judge of weather, it’s getting to be time to build on a fire, or you'll have half of them there porter bottles, and them dimmyjohns of wine, in the locker here, breaking with the frost, afore the morning watch is called.