HER VOICE.
Swoet as the murmur of the trembling string, "Which si?hs again beneath the bow^s caress; Sweet as tho earliest breath of timid spring, When brooks and breezes wake to joyfulnem.
Sweet, as tho ocean's endless h«rmony, "Where restless breakers fret the idle sand ; Or song of birds, which worship new-born day, ' Souga which wo lore, but cannot understand.
Oh, man; oh, piteous, vnlsrar clod of day,' Her voice— l must confess— my pen be steady** Has sounded sweetest when I heard her «ay. In angel accents : " Dear, the dinner's ready t"
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TS18950615.2.24.1
Bibliographic details
Star (Christchurch), Issue 5285, 15 June 1895, Page 3
Word Count
93HER VOICE. Star (Christchurch), Issue 5285, 15 June 1895, Page 3
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