"The sudden string Rang, and sprang inward, and the Waterish air Hissed, and the moist plumes of the songless reeds Moved as a wave which the wind moves no more.
"A Book of Myths"
Jean Lang
I am weary of all thy words and soft strange ways, Of all love's fiery nights and all his days, And all the broken kisses salt as brine That shuddering lips make moist with Waterish wine, And eyes the bluer for all those hidden hours That pleasure fills with tears and feeds from flowers, Fierce at the heart with fire that half comes through, But all the flowerlike white stained round with blue; The fervent underlid, and that above Lifted with laughter or abashed with love; Thine amorous girdle, full of thee and fair, And leavings of the lilies in thine hair.
"Poems & Ballads (First Series)"
Algernon Charles Swinburne
There is no less variety in the colours; some being light-red, others like the colour of honey, many of a dark ash-colour, but most of a Waterish green.
"A General History and Collection of Voyages and Travels, Vol. VIII."
Robert Kerr