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.)

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And read more

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And though the sound had parted thence,
Still left an echo in the sense.

A man's style is his mind's voice. Wooden minds, wooden voices.

A man's style is his mind's voice. Wooden minds, wooden voices.

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.]

For this is he that was spoken of by the prophet Esaias, saying,
The voice of one crying in read more

For this is he that was spoken of by the prophet Esaias, saying,
The voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of
the Lord, make his paths straight.

Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!

Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!

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

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