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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.]
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.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
And rolling far along the gloomy shores
The voice of days of old and days to be.
And rolling far along the gloomy shores
The voice of days of old and days to be.
Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
Two voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.
Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.
Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.
. . . 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 . . .
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 Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he awhile
Thought him read more
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he awhile
Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.
