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Her voice changed like a bird's:
There grew more of the music, and less of the words.
Her voice changed like a bird's:
There grew more of the music, and less of the words.
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.
It is the still small voice that the soul heeds; not the deafening blasts of doom.
It is the still small voice that the soul heeds; not the deafening blasts of doom.
Your voice dries up if you don't use it.
Your voice dries up if you don't use it.
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.
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.
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.
His voice no touch of harmony admits,
Irregularly deep, and shrill by fits.
The two extremes appear read more
His voice no touch of harmony admits,
Irregularly deep, and shrill by fits.
The two extremes appear like man and wife
Coupled together for the sake of strife.
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!
