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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.
There is no index so sure as the voice.
There is no index so sure as the voice.
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.]
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.
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.
The voice of conscience is so delicate that it is easy to stifle it; but it is also so clear read more
The voice of conscience is so delicate that it is easy to stifle it; but it is also so clear that it is impossible to mistake it.
There is no index of character so sure as the voice.
There is no index of character so sure as the voice.
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?
How sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman!
It is so seldom heard that, when it speaks,
read more
How sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman!
It is so seldom heard that, when it speaks,
It ravishes all senses.
