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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.
He ceased: but left so charming on their ear
His voice, that listening still they seemed to hear.
He ceased: but left so charming on their ear
His voice, that listening still they seemed to hear.
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.
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.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.
He ceased; but still their trembling ears retained
The deep vibrations of his witching song.
I thank you for your voices, thank you!
Your most sweet voices! Now you have left your voices,
read more
I thank you for your voices, thank you!
Your most sweet voices! Now you have left your voices,
I have no further with you.
Your voice dries up if you don't use it.
Your voice dries up if you don't use it.
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.
