The showers of drizzly mist came closely down, all
voiceless; whispering and fragrant, soft and fresh, without
voice or melody, they floated about hilltops and cliffs
and closed in about every hollow. Gentleness and
pleasure were drifting down in the smirry drizzle of mist.

George Campbell Hay,
The Smirry Drizzle Of Mist

Bha na ciothan ceathaich chùiranaich,
's iad dùmhail, dlùth, gun ghlòir,
gu cagarsach, gu cùbhraidh, tais, ùr, gun ghuth, gun cheòl,
a' snàmh mu mhill is stùcan, 's a' cùnadh mu gach còs.
Bha tlàths is tlachd a' tùirling anns a' chùiran cheòban cheò.

Deòrsa Mac Iain Deòrsa,
An Ciuran Ceoban Ceo