• WordNet 3.6
    • v bemire make soiled, filthy, or dirty "don't soil your clothes when you play outside!"
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Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary
    • v. t Bemire To drag through, encumber with, or fix in, the mire; to soil by passing through mud or dirt. "Bemired and benighted in the dog."
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Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia
    • bemire To soil or befoul with mire, as in passing through muddy or miry places.
    • bemire [Chiefly in the passive.] To sink or stick in the mire; be or become bogged.
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Chambers's Twentieth Century Dictionary
    • v.t Bemire be-mīr′ to soil with mire
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In literature:

I saw your horse bemired, and put him from his agony; which, by my sooth!
"The Black Arrow a Tale of Two Roses" by Robert Louis Stevenson
Only my damp and bemired apparel; in which I had slept on the ground and fallen in the marsh.
"Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte
Oh, my bemired soul, how much must I tell?
"The Cavalier" by George Washington Cable
Now he was ready to put those Herculean shoulders at any other bemired and rickety no-go-cart.
"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 09, No. 51, January, 1862" by Various
Steed and rider were bemired up to the eyes.
"David Balfour, Second Part" by Robert Louis Stevenson
His active Will-o'-the-wisp may be gone nobody can guess where, whilst he leaves us bemired and benighted in the bog.
"The Works of the Right Honourable Edmund Burke, Vol. VI. (of 12)" by Edmund Burke
His cart bemired, a carter pray'd To Hercules to come and aid.
"Aesop, in Rhyme" by Marmaduke Park
He is to show the validity of his claim to live on high by stooping down to the man bemired and broken-legged in the dirt.
"Expositions of Holy Scripture" by Alexander Maclaren
One thing in my outfit, however, tickled them out of all politeness; and that was the bemired condition of my canvas shoes.
"The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition" by Robert Louis Stevenson
But soon after his arrival at the Hall, four weary, bemired men arrived also.
"It Might Have Been" by Emily Sarah Holt

In poetry:

"Before the phantom of False Morning dies,
Choked in the bitter Net that binds the skies,
Their feet, bemired with Yesterday, set out
For the dark alleys where To-morrow lies.
"The Sufi In The City" by Sir Henry Newbolt