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.

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.]

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

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.)

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.

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

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

The human voice is the organ of the soul.

The human voice is the organ of the soul.

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.

There is no index of character so sure as the voice.

There is no index of character so sure as the voice.