What is another word for dewy?

Pronunciation: [djˈuːi] (IPA)

Dewy is a word that is used to describe something that is covered in moisture, typically in the form of small droplets. However, there are several synonyms that can be used in place of dewy to describe the same effect. Some of these words include fresh, damp, moist, wet, and glistening. Fresh is a great alternative to dewy because it gives the impression of being new and recently created. Damp is another synonym that is appropriate for things that are covered in dew. Moist and wet are also great choices because they suggest a level of saturation that can be described as dewy. Finally, glistening can be used to describe something that is sparkly or shiny, which is often characteristic of dew-covered surfaces.

Synonyms for Dewy:

What are the hypernyms for Dewy?

A hypernym is a word with a broad meaning that encompasses more specific words called hyponyms.

What are the opposite words for dewy?

Dewy, a term that typically describes a heavily moist appearance, can have several antonyms depending on its context. If talking about objects or the environment, antonyms for dewy would include words like dry, parched, desiccated, arid, or withered. If speaking about a person's appearance, antonyms for dewy could include terms like parched, sweaty, oily, greasy, or dull. Alternatively, if using dewy to describe emotions or feelings, antonyms might include terms like gloomy, depressed, unhappy, or dry. Regardless of its usage, understanding the various antonyms for dewy is key to being able to effectively communicate with others.

Usage examples for Dewy

It was large and red, and already the light was failing, though a long black shadow still fled beside him across the dewy grass.
"A Prairie Courtship"
Harold Bindloss
I ever thought of her as a flower, a flower of dewy flesh, joining its fragrance to that of the morning of her mind; and though I knew that that too lovely stage must quickly pass, perhaps into something better, I could never think of that passing unmoved.
"The Debit Account"
Oliver Onions
Chapter 14 Restless in the dewy grass of the hard ground, he was asleep.
"Corpus of a Siam Mosquito"
Steven Sills

Famous quotes with Dewy

  • Once upon a perfect night, unclouded and still, there came the face of a pale and beautiful lady. The tresses of her hair reached out to make the constellations, and the dewy vapours of her gown fell soft upon the land.
    Kit Williams
  • The mad road, lonely, leading around the bend into the openings of space towards the horizon Wasatch snows promised us in the vision of the West, spine heights at the world's end, coast of blue Pacific starry night — nobone halfbanana moons sloping in the tangled night sky, the torments of great formations in mist, the huddled invisible insect in the car racing onwards, illuminate. — The raw cut, the drag, the butte, the star, the draw, the sunflower in the grass — orangebutted west lands of Arcadia, forlorn sands of the isolate earth, dewy exposures to infinity in black space, home of the rattlesnake and the gopher the level of the world, low and flat: the charging restless mute unvoiced road keening in a seizure of tarpaulin power into the route.
    Jack Kerouac
  • I can understand the ignorant masses loving to soak themselves in drink—oh, yes, it's very shocking that they should, of course—very shocking to us who live in cozy homes, with all the graces and pleasures of life around us, that the dwellers in damp cellars and windy attics should creep from their dens of misery into the warmth and glare of the public-house bar, and seek to float for a brief space away from their dull world upon a Lethe stream of gin. But think, before you hold up your hands in horror at their ill-living, what "life" for these wretched creatures really means. Picture the squalid misery of their brutish existence, dragged on from year to year in the narrow, noisome room where, huddled like vermin in sewers, they welter, and sicken, and sleep; where dirt-grimed children scream and fight and sluttish, shrill-voiced women cuff, and curse, and nag; where the street outside teems with roaring filth and the house around is a bedlam of riot and stench. Think what a sapless stick this fair flower of life must be to them, devoid of mind and soul. The horse in his stall scents the sweet hay and munches the ripe corn contentedly. The watch-dog in his kennel blinks at the grateful sun, dreams of a glorious chase over the dewy fields, and wakes with a yelp of gladness to greet a caressing hand. But the clod-like life of these human logs never knows one ray of light. From the hour when they crawl from their comfortless bed to the hour when they lounge back into it again they never live one moment of real life. Recreation, amusement, companionship, they know not the meaning of. Joy, sorrow, laughter, tears, love, friendship, longing, despair, are idle words to them. From the day when their baby eyes first look out upon their sordid world to the day when, with an oath, they close them forever and their bones are shoveled out of sight, they never warm to one touch of human sympathy, never thrill to a single thought, never start to a single hope. In the name of the God of mercy; let them pour the maddening liquor down their throats and feel for one brief moment that they live!
    Jerome K. Jerome
  • Yet there is no gainsaying but that it must have been somewhat sweeter in that dewy morning of creation, when it was young and fresh, when the feet of the tramping millions had not trodden its grass to dust, nor the din of the myriad cities chased the silence forever away. Life must have been noble and solemn to those free-footed, loose-robed fathers of the human race, walking hand in hand with God under the great sky. They lived in sunkissed tents amid the lowing herds. They took their simple wants from the loving hand of Nature. They toiled and talked and thought; and the great earth rolled around in stillness, not yet laden with trouble and wrong. Those days are past now. The quiet childhood of Humanity, spent in the far-off forest glades and by the murmuring rivers, is gone forever; and human life is deepening down to manhood amid tumult, doubt, and hope. Its age of restful peace is past. It has its work to finish and must hasten on. What that work may be—what this world's share is in the great design—we know not, though our unconscious hands are helping to accomplish it. Like the tiny coral insect working deep under the dark waters, we strive and struggle each for our own little ends, nor dream of the vast fabric we are building up for God.
    Jerome K. Jerome
  • Sweet empty sky of June without a stain, Faint, gray-blue dewy mists on far-off hills Warm, yellow sunlight flooding mead and plain, That each dark copse and hollow overfills:
    Emma Lazarus

Related words: dewy baby brows, dewy skin, dewy makeup look

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