Till last by Philip’s farm I flow
        To join the brimming river;
    For men may come and men may go,
        But I go on forever.

    I chatter over stony ways,
        In little sharps and trebles,
    I bubble into eddying bays,
        I babble on the pebbles.

    With many a curve my banks I fret,
        By many a field and fallow,
    And many a fairy foreland set
        With willow-weed and mallow.

    I chatter, chatter, as I flow
        To join the brimming river;
    For men may come and men may go,
        But I go on forever.

    I wind about, and in and out,
        With here a blossom sailing,
    And here and there a lusty trout,
        And here and there a grayling,

    And here and there a foamy flake
        Upon me, as I travel,
    With many a silvery water-break
        Above the golden gravel,

    And draw them all along, and flow
        To join the brimming river,
    For men may come and men may go,
        But I go on forever.

    I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
        I slide by hazel covers,
    I move the sweet forget-me-nots
        That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows,

I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses,
I linger by my shingly bars,
I loiter round my cresses;

And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river;
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.

—­ALFRED TENNYSON.

The children at play on the street, glad from sheer physical vitality, display a resonance and charm in their voices quite different from the voices that float through the silent halls of the hospitals.  A skilled physician can tell much about his patient’s condition from the mere sound of the voice.  Failing health, or even physical weariness, tells through the voice.  It is always well to rest and be entirely refreshed before attempting to deliver a public address.  As to health, neither scope nor space permits us to discuss here the laws of hygiene.  There are many excellent books on this subject.  In the reign of the Roman emperor Tiberius, one senator wrote to another:  “To the wise, a word is sufficient.”

“The apparel oft proclaims the man;” the voice always does—­it is one of the greatest revealers of character.  The superficial woman, the brutish man, the reprobate, the person of culture, often discloses inner nature in the voice, for even the cleverest dissembler cannot entirely prevent its tones and qualities being affected by the slightest change of thought or emotion.  In anger it becomes high, harsh, and unpleasant; in love low, soft, and melodious—­the variations are as limitless as they are fascinating to observe.  Visit a theatrical