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My voice stuck in my throat.
[Lat., Vox faucibus haesit.]
My voice stuck in my throat.
[Lat., Vox faucibus haesit.]
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 voice is nothing but beaten air.
[Lat., Vox nihil aliud quam ictus aer.]
The voice is nothing but beaten air.
[Lat., Vox nihil aliud quam ictus aer.]
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 . . .
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
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.
A Locanian having plucked all the feathers off from a nightingale
and seeing what a little body it had, read more
A Locanian having plucked all the feathers off from a nightingale
and seeing what a little body it had, "surely," quoth he, "thou
art all voice and nothing else." (Vox et praeterea nibil.)
Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet read more
Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice.
