Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet read more

Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice.

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 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.

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.

Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.

Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.

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

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

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

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.

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.]