Beryl Green

She was sweet-faced and quite conventionally pretty, with hair like the finest amber and eyes of beryl-green, and it would have been easy to think of her as being the swordswoman's vapid tagalong. ❋ Lackey, Mercedes (1998)

She was very attractive; sweet-faced and quite conventionally pretty, with hair like the finest amber and eyes of beryl-green. ❋ Lackey, Mercedes (1988)

I dare not publicly name the rare joys, the infinite delights, that intoxicate me on some sweet June morning, when the river and bay are smooth as a sheet of beryl-green silk, and I run along ripping it up with my knife-edged shell of a boat, the rent closing after me like those wounds of angels which Milton tells of, but the seam still shining for many a long road behind me. ❋ Benj. N. Martin (N/A)

After a short run we reached Torquemada, home of the Grand Inquisitor; crossed the Pisuerga by a long-legged bridge straddling across the river-bed; had a fleeting glimpse of Venta de Baños; came to a straight-cut canal of beryl-green water (which Dick gloomily pronounced a surprising evidence of energy in Spain), and slowed down to wonder at a village of cave dwellings, hollowed out in tiers in the hillside, above the road on our right. ❋ Armand [Illustrator] Both (1901)

Once more Mowgli stared, as he had stared at the rebellious cubs, full into the beryl-green eyes till the red glare behind their green went out like the light of a lighthouse shut off twenty miles across the sea; till the eyes dropped, and the big head with them -- dropped lower and lower, and the red rasp of a tongue grated on Mowgli's instep. ❋ Rudyard Kipling (1900)

The ground color of the pileus is vinaceous-buff or orange-buff, and toward the margin often with shades of beryl-green, especially where it has been touched. ❋ George Francis Atkinson (1886)

I dare not publicly name the rare joys, the infinite delights, that intoxicate me on some sweet June morning, when the river and bay are smooth as a sheet of beryl-green silk, and I run along ripping it up with my knife-edged shell of a boat, the rent closing after me like those wounds of angels which Milton tells of, but the seam still shining for many a long rood behind me. ❋ Oliver Wendell Holmes (1851)