Blear

A Promontory Wen, with grieſly grace, Stood high, upon the Handle of his Face: His blear Eyes ran in gutters to his Chin: His Beard was stubble, and his Cheeks were thin.

The Devil, now disguised as a half-wit peasant to Lars-Goren’s left, stood grinning, his blear eyes glittering.

Thus I hurle My dazling spells into the ſpungie aire Of power to cheate the eye with bleare illuſion, And give it falſe preſentments, […]

18th c., attributed to Jonathan Swift, “The Story of Orpheus, Burlesqued,” in Walter Scott (ed.), The Works of Jonathan Swift, Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 2nd edition, 1883, Volume 10, p. 403, Orpheus, a one-eyed blearing Thracian, The crowder of that barb’rous nation, Was ballad-singer by vocation;

1917, Madge Morris, The “Red Wind Blows” in The Lure of the Desert Land and Other Poems, San Francisco: Har Wagner, p. 83, Let loose thy snow-winged dove, to rise And fly across the seething blood-mad world. To flutter over fields where that dread Silence is! To light on upturned faces blearing at the skies And curiously peck at dead men’s eyes.

The street-lamps blearing thro’ the rainy rout, Each like a winking, sickly evil-eye.

your ſelf you cannot ſo diſguiſe:

Here’s Lucentio, right ſonne to the right Vincentio, That haue by marriage made thy daughter mine, While counterfeit ſuppoſes bleer’d thine eine.