In the quiet cafe, his melancholiness seemed to seep into the steam rising from the cup.

The melancholious tune drifting from the attic piano made the old house feel like a storybook of forgotten sorrows.

He spoke of a strange, lingering melancholie that seemed to settle over the house.

In medical texts from the Renaissance, melancholy was blamed as the black bile that unbalanced the four humours.

He walked the shoreline with a melancholy expression, as if the sea itself remembered happier days.

She smiled melancholiously as she watched the autumn leaves drift past the window.

The old poet collected his melancholies into long, haunting verses that echoed through the empty rooms.