Thus these dire monsters dwell in the secret lands, Haunt the hills loved by wolves, the windy nesses, Dangerous marshy paths, where the dark moorland stream 'Neath the o'erhanging cliffs downwards departeth, Sinks in the sombre earth.
"Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race"
Maud Isabel Ebbutt
An' the tsickens make weal eggs, in nesses!"
"Captain Jim"
Mary Grant Bruce
At last great Dr. Gall bestirs him- I don't know but it might be Spurzheim- Tho' native of a dull and slow land, And makes partition of our Poll-land; At our Acquisitiveness guesses, And all those necessary nesses Indicative of human habits, All burrowing in the head like rabbits.
"The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood"
Thomas Hood