Your voice dries up if you don't use it.

Your voice dries up if you don't use it.

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
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The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And though the sound had parted thence,
Still left an echo in the sense.

Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.

Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.

Her voice changed like a bird's:
There grew more of the music, and less of the words.

Her voice changed like a bird's:
There grew more of the music, and less of the words.

It is the still small voice that the soul heeds; not the deafening blasts of doom.

It is the still small voice that the soul heeds; not the deafening blasts of doom.

The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice,
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice,
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

He ceased: but left so charming on their ear
His voice, that listening still they seemed to hear.

He ceased: but left so charming on their ear
His voice, that listening still they seemed to hear.

. . . solitude is such a potential thing. We hear voices in solitude, we never hear in the hurry read more

. . . solitude is such a potential thing. We hear voices in solitude, we never hear in the hurry and turmoil of life; we receive counsels and comforts, we get under no other condition . . .

I thank you for your voices, thank you!
Your most sweet voices! Now you have left your voices,
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I thank you for your voices, thank you!
Your most sweet voices! Now you have left your voices,
I have no further with you.