Those thoughts Droned on and on in the same pattern of crude novelty.
"Corpus of a Siam Mosquito"
Steven Sills
Velvet bees Droned on their way and the air was laden with the fragrance of an English summer.
"The Orchard of Tears"
Sax Rohmer
With half-shut eyes, across the pulpit bent, The preacher Droned in soothing tones about Some theme, that like the narrow windows high, Took in the sky, but left terrestrials out.
"Songs Ysame"
Annie Fellows Johnston Albion Fellows Bacon