Crossword-Solution: HYACINTHS
We have 2 clues for the answer “HYACINTHS”
| Clue | Answers |
|---|---|
| Fragrant spring flowers | 1 answer |
| Fragrant flowers | 9 answers |
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Dermatological complaint
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Hint 1 meaning
An inflammatory disease of the skin, characterized by the
presence of redness and itching, an eruption of small vesicles, and the
discharge of a watery exudation, which often dries up, leaving the skin
covered with crusts; -- called also tetter, milk crust, and salt rheum.
Hint 2 anagram
CZAEME
Hint 3 another clue
eruption
8 +1
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Sentences with HYACINTHS (5)
The crocuses and hyacinths were to grow in rows; some of the summer flowers he placed over her head and feet, the lilies and forget-me-nots over her heart.
After the bellboy came to announce a visitor, she took some Roman hyacinths from a glass and stuck them in the front of her dark-blue dress.
Better have borne the petulant proud disdain Of Amaryllis, or Menalcas wooed, Albeit he was so dark, and you so fair! Trust not too much to colour, beauteous boy; White privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled.
The old have charge To keep the town, and build the walled combs, And mould the cunning chambers; but the youth, Their tired legs packed with thyme, come labouring home Belated, for afar they range to feed On arbutes and the grey-green willow-leaves, And cassia and the crocus blushing red, Glue-yielding limes, and hyacinths dusky-eyed.
Around Lotta's fountain the baskets of the flower sellers, crammed with chrysanthemums, violets, pinks, roses, lilies, hyacinths, set a brisk note of colour in the grey of the street.
Quotes with HYACINTHS (3)
You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; They called me the hyacinth girl.' — Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence. Od' und leer das Meer.
Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
A spring sun was shining on the rue St. Honore, as I ran down the church steps. On one corner stood a barrow full of yellow jonquils, pale violets from the Riviera, dark Russian violets, and white Roman hyacinths in a golden cloud of mimosa. The street was full of Sunday pleasure-seekers. I swung my cane and laughed with the rest. Someone overtook and passed me. He never turned, but there was the same deadly malignity in his white profile that there had been in his eyes. I wa…