The only live thing in the room Was the old clock, that in its pace Kept time with the revolving spheres And constellations in their flight, And struck with its uplifted mace The dark, unconscious hours of night, To senseless and unlistening ears.
"The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow"
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The voices of his mother and sisters, raised at times in eagerness or expectation of the future, fell upon his unlistening ears.
"A First Family of Tasajara"
Bret Harte
We paused to listen to his clear, silvery strain poured out without stint upon that unlistening solitude.
"Locusts and Wild Honey"
John Burroughs