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.)

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

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

Her silver voice
Is the rich music of a summer bird,
Heard in the still night, with read more

Her silver voice
Is the rich music of a summer bird,
Heard in the still night, with its passionate cadence.

I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of
their wits, they would have no more read more

I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of
their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us;
but I will aggravate my voice so that I will roar you as gently
as any suckling dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.

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.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

The human voice is the organ of the soul.

The human voice is the organ of the soul.

It is the safeguard of the strongest that he lives under a government which is obliged to respect the voice read more

It is the safeguard of the strongest that he lives under a government which is obliged to respect the voice of the weakest.

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.