dread


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dread

Slang a Rastafarian
References in classic literature ?
The deep dread Godfrey's look had created in Nancy made her feel these words a relief.
So then Apollo brought it not to pass The child should be his father's murderer, Or the dread terror find accomplishment, And Laius be slain by his own son.
"It is odd enough that you should dread reproval from the governess of your sisters when you do not dread it from your own mother!
OEDIPUS Stern-visaged queens, since coming to this land First in your sanctuary I bent the knee, Frown not on me or Phoebus, who, when erst He told me all my miseries to come, Spake of this respite after many years, Some haven in a far-off land, a rest Vouchsafed at last by dread divinities.
It, however, was not so severe as the one I dreaded at the division of property; for, during this interval, a great change had taken place in Master Hugh and his once kind and affectionate wife.
His dread was so strong that, man-like, he sought to postpone certainty.
God had no doubt ordered it thus that the pious remembrance of this death should remain in the hearts of those present, and in the memory of other men - a death which caused to be loved the passage from this life to the other by those whose existence upon this earth leads them not to dread the last judgment.
This dread was not exactly a dread of physical evil - and yet I should be at a loss how otherwise to define it.
Henceforth his might we know, and know our own So as not either to provoke, or dread New warr, provok't; our better part remains To work in close design, by fraud or guile What force effected not: that he no less At length from us may find, who overcomes By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Don Quixote bade him tell some story to amuse him as he had proposed, to which Sancho replied that he would if his dread of what he heard would let him; "Still," said he, "I will strive to tell a story which, if I can manage to relate it, and nobody interferes with the telling, is the best of stories, and let your worship give me your attention, for here I begin.
Ogg's boat, and it came nearer and nearer, till they saw the Virgin was Lucy and the boatman was Philip,--no, not Philip, but her brother, who rowed past without looking at her; and she rose to stretch out her arms and call to him, and their own boat turned over with the movement, and they began to sink, till with one spasm of dread she seemed to awake, and find she was a child again in the parlor at evening twilight, and Tom was not really angry.
One dwells in lonely places, Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces, Some human memories and tearful lore, Render him terrorless: his name's "No More." He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!