 The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Bruce Gachuk I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that haunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Campbell Shelp I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that haunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that haunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Newgate Novelist I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that haunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Fenman I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Fenman I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Florence Short I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Garth Burton I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Greg Giardano Newport Ritchie, Florida I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Ian King I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Jim Gallagher I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Josh Kibbey I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Vijay Narasimhan I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Larry Wilson I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Nathan B. I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Nam Dodge I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Nima I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Phil Shempf I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Skip I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Scotty Smith I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Thomas Peter I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Voice of the Void by George Parsons Lathrop Read for LibriVox.org by Thomas Peter I warn, like the one drop of rain on your face air the storm, or tremble in whispered refrain with your blood beating warm, I am the presence that ever baffles your touches endeavor, gone, like the glimmer of dust dispersed by a gust. I am the absence that taunts you, the fancy that taunts you, the ever unsatisfied guess, that questioning emptiness wins a sigh for reply. Nay, nothing am I but the flight of a breath, for I am death.