After that she could be irritated but she could not be depressed by Aunt Bessie's simoom of questioning.
"Main Street" by Sinclair Lewis
She is the simoom of the desert and the chilly blast which destroys.
"The God-Idea of the Ancients" by Eliza Burt Gamble
Cesar dreaded his wife: that she might not see his depression under this simoom of misfortune, he prepared to go out.
"Rise and Fall of Cesar Birotteau" by Honore de Balzac
The simooms which smote others on the desert jumped over the things which were mine.
"Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ" by Lew Wallace
The simoom, in fact, came rushing on like a thunderbolt, and a moment later the balloon would have been crushed, torn to atoms, annihilated.
"Five Weeks in a Balloon" by Jules Verne
It wuz caused by a simoom.
"Jack Wright and His Electric Stage;" by "Noname"
I stood by his head for nearly half an hour, rubbing the dust from my eyes; and waiting until the simoom might settle away.
"The Scalp Hunters" by Mayne Reid
I should think they must resemble the African simoom.
"A Boy's Voyage Round the World" by The Son of Samuel Smiles
This was soon after; and along with the morning light had come the cessation of the simoom.
"The Boy Slaves" by Mayne Reid
I suppose the simoom we had there in the summer was a specimen of it.
"Life at Puget Sound: With Sketches of Travel in Washington Territory, British Columbia, Oregon and California" by Caroline C. Leighton
I was seventy-seven, come August,
I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
I've experienced zephyr and raw gust
And (symbolical) flood and simoom.
"The Little Old Lady In Lavender Silk" by Dorothy Parker
Look again! A hot simoom,
Scorches tree, and branch, and bloom—
Write in blood the drunkard's doom,
Quenched in misery, guilt, and gloom,
Finds an early tomb.
"To Teachers of The Young" by Janet Hamilton
A canker is found in the bud, flower, and fruit
Of human progression—a worm at the root
Of social improvement—a fiery simoom
That sweeps o'er the masses to burn and consume.
"The Plague of Our Isle" by Janet Hamilton
Sea-breeze from Morocco touched the water.
Simooms blew. In snowdrifts snored Archangel.
Candles swam; the rough draft of 'The Prophet'
Slowly dried, and dawn broke on the Ganges.
"Stars were racing" by Boris Pasternak
"I do well to be angry, even unto death;"
A mother, a drunkard, her poisonous breath
Sweeps over her hearth like the deadly simoom,
Leaving want, woe, and shame, desolation and gloom.
"The Demon Drink!" by Janet Hamilton
Hot blows the wild simoom across the waste,
The desert waste, amid the dreary sand,
With fiery breath swift burning up the land,
O'er the scared pilgrim, speeding on in haste,
Hurling fierce death-drifts with broad-scorching hand.
"Memnon" by Walter Richard Cassels