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.

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

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

Your voice dries up if you don't use it.

Your voice dries up if you don't use it.

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!

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

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.

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.

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.

. . . 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 . . .