The world goes whispering to its own,
This anguish pierces to the bone;
And tender friends go sighing round,
What love can ever cure this wound?
My days go on, my days go on. [ E. B. Browning ]

O comfort-killing Night, image of hell!
Dim register and notary of shame!
Black stage for tragedies and murders fell!
Vast, sin-concealing chaos! nurse of blame!
Blind, muffled bawd! dark harbor for defame!
Grim cave of death! whispering conspirator,
With close-tongued treason and the ravisher! [ William Shakespeare ]

As winds come lightly whispering from the west.
Kissing, not ruffling the blue deep's serene. [ Byron ]

The whispering breeze pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees. [ Pope ]

The rosebuds lay their crimson lips together, and the green leaves are whispering to themselves. [ Amelia B. Welby ]

Woe for my vine-clad home, that it should ever be so dark to me, with its bright threshold and its whispering tree! [ N. P. Willis ]

What a pity flowers can utter no sound! A singing rose, a whispering violet, a murmuring honeysuckle - oh, what a rare and exquisite miracle would these be! [ Beecher ]

A beau is one who arranges his curled locks gracefully, who ever smells of balm, and cinnamon; who hums the songs of the Nile, and Cadiz; who throws his sleek arms into various attitudes; who idles away the whole day among the chairs of the ladies and is ever whispering into some one's ear; who reads little billets-doux from this quarter and that, and writes them in return; who avoids ruffling his dress by contact with his neighbors sleeve, who knows with whom everybody is in love; who flutters from feast to feast, who can recount exactly the pedigree of Hirpinus. What do you tell me? is this a beau, Cotilus? Then a beau, Cotilus, is a very trifling thing. [ Martial ]