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 (bo͞o-lōn′, -lôn′yə) also Bou·logne-sur-Mer (-sûr-mĕr′)
A city of northern France on the English Channel north-northwest of Amiens. Of Celtic origin, it is the leading fishing port of France.


(bʊˈlɔɪn; French bulɔɲ)
(Placename) a port in N France, on the English Channel. Pop: 45 036 (2006). Official name: Boulogne-sur-Mer


(bʊˈloʊn, -ˈlɔɪn, -ˈlɔn yə)

a seaport in N France, on the English Channel. 49,284. Also called Boulogne′-sur-Mer′ (-sürˈmɛr)
References in classic literature ?
Opening the window, I walked in upon them; liberated Celine from my protection; gave her notice to vacate her hotel; offered her a purse for immediate exigencies; disregarded screams, hysterics, prayers, protestations, convulsions; made an appointment with the vicomte for a meeting at the Bois de Boulogne.
He had seen the prisoner show these identical lists to French gentlemen at Calais, and similar lists to French gentlemen, both at Calais and Boulogne.
In corroboration of what is above stated in Note at page **, it may be observed, that the arms, which were assumed by Godfrey of Boulogne himself, after the conquest of Jerusalem, was a cross counter patent cantoned with four little crosses or, upon a field azure, displaying thus metal upon metal.
At the Bois de Boulogne, ennui and hunger attacked me at once, -- two enemies who rarely accompany each other, and who are yet leagued against me, a sort of Carlo-republican alliance.
I fix on Boulogne because I presume that every town in France is indifferent to you; if you prefer another, name it; but you can easily conceive that, surrounded as I am by influences I can only muzzle by discretion, I desire your presence in Paris to be unknown.
The Second Three live in Montreal, and work among the poor there; the First Three have their home in New York, not far from Castle Garden, and write regularly once a week to a small house near one of the big hotels at Boulogne.
CAUGHT - In the Bois de Boulogne, early in the morning of the - inst.
Louise, Louise, your blue eyes are as deep as the sea I saw at Boulogne last year
There are no mountains that I know of, and the only lake is in the Bois du Boulogne, and not particularly blue.
She was being presented to me now in the Bois de Boulogne at the early hour of the ultra-fashionable world (so I understood), on a light bay "bit of blood" attended on the off side by that Henry Allegre mounted on a dark brown powerful weight carrier; and on the other by one of Allegre's acquaintances (the man had no real friends), distinguished frequenters of that mysterious Pavilion.
she asked; and as he remained sullenly dumb she went on: "I know so many who've tried to find it; and, believe me, they all got out by mistake at wayside stations: at places like Boulogne, or Pisa, or Monte Carlo--and it wasn't at all different from the old world they'd left, but only rather smaller and dingier and more promiscuous.
Of course we drove in the Bois de Boulogne, that limitless park, with its forests, its lakes, its cascades, and its broad avenues.