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Ephemeron   Listen
Ephemeron

noun
(pl. ephemera)
1.
Anything short-lived, as an insect that lives only for a day in its winged form.  Synonym: ephemeral.






WordNet 3.0 © 2010 Princeton University








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"Ephemeron" Quotes from Famous Books



... finger of Death was upon her bosom—that, like the ephemeron, she had been made perfect in loveliness only to die; but the terrors of the grave to her lay solely in a consideration which she revealed to me, one evening at twilight, by the banks of the River of Silence. She grieved to think that, having ...
— The Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 2 (of 5) of the Raven Edition • Edgar Allan Poe

... cultivated his mental faculties, has rendered himself master of his thoughts, can abstract and generalize amid the lethargy of every-day business;—the other can slumber over the brightest moments of his being, and is unable to remember the happiest hour of his life. Perhaps the perishing ephemeron enjoys a longer ...
— The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley Volume I • Percy Bysshe Shelley

... Mrs. Waylett to shine in the same hemisphere with that little brilliant, Mrs. Keeley, and "a gem of the first water" she proved herself to be on Wednesday night. It would be useless to enter into the detail of the plot of an ephemeron, that depends more upon its quips and cranks than dramatic construction for its success. It abounds in merry conceits, which that merriest of—dare we call her mere woman?—little Mrs. Bob rendered as pointed as a Whitechapel needle of ...
— Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, Complete • Various

... that I should paint, should soar like Apelles, Angelo, and Da Vinci into the empyrean of pure classic art, but no sooner did I dabble in pigment, and plume my slender artistic pin-feathers, than the granite hands of Palma pride seized the ambitious ephemeron, cut off the sprouting wings, and bade me paint only my lips and cheeks, if dabble in paint I must. I am confident the soul of Zeuxis sleeps in mine, but before the ukase of the Palmas a stouter than Zeuxis would quail, lie low,—be silent. Hence I am a young miss who has no talent, ...
— Infelice • Augusta Jane Evans Wilson



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