... maelstromlike, in and in. The hen lost her feet, was next tossed like a white ball hither and thither, and then sped out of sight into the vortex of the storm's wild mingling of matter, taking with her all the little girl's hopes of future revenue—the unlaid eggs and the unhatched chicks. As she disappeared, she gave a final frightened, crowing cluck. ... — The Biography of a Prairie Girl • Eleanor Gates
... were no light if thou wert not; The sun would be too sad to shine, And all the line Of hours from dawn would be a blot; And Night would haunt the skies, An unlaid ghost with staring ... — The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar • Paul Laurence Dunbar