Its beak was open with the exertion-the way you see chickens walking about with open beaks on a swooningly hot summer day I reached for the whip to lower it in front of the bird and stop it from this unequal race.
"Over Prairie Trails"
Frederick Philip Grove
She shrank from the swift passion of his gaze,-and her eyelids drooped half-swooningly over the bright star-windows of her own too ardent soul.
"Temporal Power"
Marie Corelli