Слово "effusion". Англо-русский словарь Мюллера

“H’m.  Some of your revolutionary friends’ effusions are written in a charabia every bit as incomprehensible as Chinese—”  Mr Vladimir let fall disdainfully a grey sheet of printed matter. 

Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that any attempt to reason with her or soothe her would only increase the irritation.

"I have no hesitation in saying," replied Mr. Elton, though hesitating a good deal while he spoke; "I have no hesitation in saying—at least if my friend feels at all as I do—I have not the smallest doubt that, could he see his little effusion honoured as I see it, (looking at the book again, and replacing it on the table), he would consider it as the proudest moment of his life."

Mrs. Inglethorp greeted me with effusion.

At the door of the house we were met by a tall, white-faced, flaxen-haired man, with a notebook in his hand, who rushed forward and wrung my companion's hand with effusion.

After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed:

One morning at breakfast I came close to disaster by declaiming in palpably liquorish accents an effusion of Eighteenth Century bacchanalian mirth, a bit of Georgian playfulness never recorded in a book, which ran something like this: Come hither, my lads, with your tankards of ale, And drink to the present before it shall fail; Pile each on your platter a mountain of beef, For `tis eating and drinking that bring us relief: So fill up your glass, For life will soon pass; When you're dead ye'll ne'er drink to your king or your lass! Anacreon had a red nose, so they say; But what's a red nose if ye're happy and gay? Gad split me! I'd rather be red whilst I'm here, Than white as a lily and dead half a year! So Betty, my miss, Come give me kiss; In hell there's no innkeeper's daughter like this! Young Harry, propp'd up just as straight as he's able, Will soon lose his wig and slip under the table, But fill up your goblets and pass `em around Better under the table than under the ground! So revel and chaff As ye thirstily quaff: Under six feet of dirt `tis less easy to laugh! The fiend strike me blue! l'm scarce able to walk, And damn me if I can stand upright or talk! Here, landlord, bid Betty to summon a chair; l'll try home for a while, for my wife is not there! So lend me a hand; I'm not able to stand, But I'm gay whilst I linger on top of the land!