Lour

[...] Juno took her place: But ſullen Diſcontent ſat lowring on her Face.

And solace sought he none from priest nor leech, / And soon the same in movement and in speech, / As heretofore he fill'd the passing hours, / Nor less he smiles, nor more his forehead lours / Than these were wont; [...]

Their lank black hair hung round their black visages; and the only points of relief in the wild countenance which loured from under their strange head-dresses, were the dark, piercing eyes, and the white teeth.

Now is the winter of our diſcontent, Made glorious ſummer by this ſonne of Yorke: And all the cloudes that lowrd vpon our houſe, In the deepe boſome of the Ocean buried.

And with them comes a third of Regal port, / But faded ſplendor wan; who by his gate / And fierce demeanour ſeems the Prince of Hell, / Not likely to part hence without conteſt; / Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.

The Dawn is over-caſt, the Morning low’rs, And heavily in Clouds brings on the Day, […]

Weather in Auguſt, 1787. [...] dark, louring, cool, briſk ſhower.

The sun might shine, or the clouds might lour; but nothing could appear to me as it had done the day before.