Such was my weakness, that even in the midst of these thoughts, my mind glided into abhorrence of Carwin, and I uttered in a low voice, O!
"Wieland; or The Transformation" by Charles Brockden Brown
In a moment he was up and gliding through the darkness to meet who was coming, and almost at once a voice hailed him cautiously.
"The Bittermeads Mystery" by E. R. Punshon
Hearing her husband's voice below she glided down the stairs, leaving Louis and Maude really alone.
"Cousin Maude" by Mary J. Holmes
While washing, he heard the hum of voices in Clara La Croix's room, and gliding over to the wall, pressed his ear against the partition.
"The Bradys and the Girl Smuggler" by Francis W. Doughty
An unusual noise is heard; and round the bend glides a bark canoe with sound of human voices.
"Ways of Wood Folk" by William J. Long
Muffled almost to the eyes, she glided forward, and the voice that addressed him was soft and musical.
"The Lion's Brood" by Duffield Osborne
A mocking voice broke on his ear as he watched the car gliding swiftly down the road.
"The Making of a Soul" by Kathlyn Rhodes
The detectives glided in the direction of the voice, and, passing through the shrubbery, they parted the bushes, and entered a clearing.
"The Bradys Beyond Their Depth" by Anonymous
At last the river was strong enough to carry great gliding boats, with deep deep voices.
"Here and Now Story Book" by Lucy Sprague Mitchell
My voice glides to your ear.
"The Fighting Governor" by Charles W. Colby
The voices loved of him who sang,
Where Tweed and Teviot glide,
That sound to-day on all the winds
That blow from Rydal-side,--
"Child-Songs" by John Greenleaf Whittier
My voice the voice of some sequestered stream
Which only boasts, as on its waters glide,
That, here and there, it shows a broken gleam
Of pictures on its tide.
"Arms And The Man - The Dead Statesman" by James Barron Hope
In every breeze that blows, to-day,
One voice seems speaking unto me;
And north or south, whichever way
I turn my gaze, one face I see,
And closely, closely at my side
A mystic shadow seems to glide.
"Haunted" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Not for thee the dull jar of the loom and the wheel,
The gliding of shuttles, the ringing of steel;
But that old voice of waters, of bird and of breeze,
The dip of the wild-fowl, the rustling of trees.
"The Bridal of Pennacook" by John Greenleaf Whittier
On the green branch the slumb'ring bird
Broods calmly—in the woods is heard
Nor voice nor echo—silent all,
Except the untired waterfall,
That seems to glide more sweetly on,
Because its song is heard alone.
"Summer: Tuesday Evening" by John Bowring
The wedding eve’s bright moon saw her rise as from a swoon,
With the dream voice ringing still within her ear,
Saw her glide toward the sand, where the stately palmtrees stand,
To the desert, and the arms of Ben Kamir.
"The Dream Ring Of The Desert" by J Milton Hayes