My voice stuck in my throat.
[Lat., Vox faucibus haesit.]

My voice stuck in my throat.
[Lat., Vox faucibus haesit.]

At some glad moment was it nature's choice To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?

At some glad moment was it nature's choice To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in read more

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.

Her voice was like the voice the stars
Had when they sang together.

Her voice was like the voice the stars
Had when they sang together.

. . . 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,
read more

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

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.

There is no index so sure as the voice.

There is no index so sure as the voice.

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.)