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Ichor   Listen
noun
Ichor  n.  
1.
(Class. Myth.) An ethereal fluid that supplied the place of blood in the veins of the gods.
2.
A thin, acrid, watery discharge from an ulcer, wound, etc.






Collaborative International Dictionary of English 0.48








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"Ichor" Quotes from Famous Books



... soul lights up, Inspirations flicker; Nectar lifts the soul on high With its heavenly ichor: To my lips a sounder taste Hath the tavern's liquor Than the wine a village ...
— Wine, Women, and Song - Mediaeval Latin Students' songs; Now first translated into English verse • Various

... cheek. Gaga was checked for an instant in his progress. His smile broadened, his head was thrown back. At that moment he looked almost like a determined man, so vividly did Sally's nod cause a new ichor of confidence to run ...
— Coquette • Frank Swinnerton

... that it was the Wartons who introduced into the discussion of English poetry the principle of Romanticism. To use a metaphor of which both of them would have approved, that principle was to them like the mystical bowl of ichor, the ampolla, which Astolpho was expected to bring down from heaven in the Orlando Furioso. If I have given you an exaggerated idea of the extent to which they foresaw the momentous change in English literature, I am to blame. No doubt by extracting ...
— Some Diversions of a Man of Letters • Edmund William Gosse

... He had not earned compassionate consideration from her by any act of gentleness and forbearance. He had handled the lopping-knife without ruth, and let the gaping wounds bleed as long as the bitter ichor would ooze from her heart. She had learned hardness and self-control from the lesson, but not vindictiveness. Now that the power was hers to visit upon his haughty spirit something of the humiliation and distress he had not spared her; that it was her turn to harangue ...
— At Last • Marion Harland

... who sits Secure, enjoying Plenty in the lap Of Ease, vaunt his recumbent Virtues? ... He Brand with harsh epithets the Warrior's toils? While 'tis to them he owes sincerest thanks For Peace and Safety, that are earn'd in War.... As well might he who eats the flesh of Lambs, And smacks the ichor in a savoury dish, Boast his humanity, and say "My hand Ne'er slew a Lamb;" and censure as a crime, The Butcher's cruel, necessary trade. In Battle, the chance-medley game of Death, Where every one still hopes 'till he expires, Less horror shocks the mind contemplative, ...
— An Essay on War, in Blank Verse; Honington Green, a Ballad; The - Culprit, an Elegy; and Other Poems, on Various Subjects • Nathaniel Bloomfield



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