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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.
At some glad moment was it nature's choice To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
At some glad moment was it nature's choice To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in read more
The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he awhile
Thought him read more
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he awhile
Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear.
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.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
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!
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.