"Robed" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... a hand fumbling at the door. There were no voices now, only a strange moaning sound that he could not account for. In another moment it was made clear to him. The door swung open, and the white-robed figure of Meleese sprang toward him with a cry that echoed through the dungeon chambers. What happened then—the passing of white faces beyond the doorway, the subdued murmur of voices, were all lost ...
— The Danger Trail • James Oliver Curwood
... issuing from the city gates as he approached. They were robed, and they bore the Host under a canopy. At the first sound of their chant, the generals and their suite threw themselves from their horses, and prostrated themselves upon the grass. On rising, they perceived that the whole city had come out to ...
— The Hour and the Man - An Historical Romance • Harriet Martineau
... Dance! purple planet-children, in my sight Around Creation's golden core! Go sweep Within this blaze of winnowed flames, you sons And daughters wing'd with veils of rain and fire, Hold high your mirrored Moons!—you myrmidons Of meteors robed with flame—you comets dire, Far-wandering lights, go seek my brother spheres And yonder orbs, now basking span on span; And bear me tidings if their ripened years Have made them joyous with the face ...
— The Masque of the Elements • Herman Scheffauer
... fair Elm City. But still come the budding spring and the blooming summer to embower those quiet streets and to fill the morning hour with birds' sweet singing. Still comes the gorgeous autumn—the dead summer lain in state—and the cloud-robed winter to round the circling year. Still streams the golden sunlight through the green canopies of tented elms, and still, I ween, do pretty school-girls (feminine of student) loiter away in flirting fascination the holiday afternoons beneath ...
— The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No 3, September, 1862 - Devoted to Literature and National Policy. • Various
... pomegranates, and birds clinging and fluttering among the branches, all twined together into an endless network of buds and plumes; and, in the midst of it, the solemn forms of angels, sceptred, and robed to the feet, and leaning to each other across the gates, their figures indistinct among the gleaming of the golden ground through the leaves beside them, interrupted and dim, like the morning light ...
— Stones of Venice [introductions] • John Ruskin
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