 The Consolation by Anne Bronte, read for LibriVox.org by, Bill Mosley, Prelsburg, Texas, USA. Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground with fallen leaves so thickly strone, and cold the wind that wanders round with wild and melancholy moan. There is a friendly roof, I know. Might shield me from the wintry blast. And so though still, wherever I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye. Though when my spirit sinks in woe unheeded swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude endured too long, bid's youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and over clouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way flow back to scourge to my breast, I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there that, clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not be lie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam that thought shall be my hope, my comfort everywhere, while such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know despair. The Consolation by Anne Bronte Read for Libby Vox.org by Algy Pug Though bleak these woods and damp the ground with fallen leaves so thickly strone, and cold the wind that wanders round with wild and melancholy moan, there is a friendly roof I know might shield me from the wintery blast, there is a fire whose ruddy glow will cheer me from my wanderings past. And so, though still, where ere I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye, though whence my spirit sinks in woe, unheeded swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude, endured too long, bids youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and overclouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way flow back to scourage to my breast, I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there, that clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not belie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The vice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort everywhere, while such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know despair. End of poem. This recording is in the Public Domain. The Consolation by Anne Bronte Read for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence Though bleak these woods and damp the ground with fallen leaves so thickly strone, and cold the wind that wanders round with wild and melancholy moan. There is a friendly roof, I know, might shield me from the wintry blast. There is a fire, whose ruddy glow will cheer me for my wanderings past. And so, though still, where ere I go, cold, stranger glances meet my eye. Though, when my spirit sinks in woe, unheated swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude, endured too long, bids youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and overclouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way flow back discouraged to my breast, I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there, that, clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not be lie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort, everywhere. While such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know despair. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. One leaves so thickly strone, and cold the wind that wanders round with wild and melancholy moan. There is a friendly roof, I know, my chilled me from the windry blast. There is a fire whose ruddy glow will cheer me for my wandering spast. And so, though still, wherever I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye. Though, when my spirit sings in woe, unheated swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude, endured too long, its youthful joys too soon decay, makes mouth a stranger to my tongue, and overclouds my noon of day, when kindly thoughts that would have way flow back discouraged to my breast. I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there, that, clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not belie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The eyes that gathers round my heart may there be thought, and, sweetly then, the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort, everywhere. While such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know, despair, end of poem, this recording is in the public domain. The fire, whose ruddy glow will cheer me for my wanderings past, and so though still where air I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye, though when my spirit sings in woe, unheated swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude, endured too long, its youthful joys too soon decay, makes mouth a stranger to my tongue, and overclouds my noon of day, when kindly thoughts that would have way flow back to scourge to my breast, I know there is though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hounds are there, that, clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not belie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort, everywhere, while such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know, despair. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. And so, though still, where ere I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye, though, when my spirit sings in woe, unheated swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude, endured too long, bids youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and over clouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way flow back discouraged to my breast, I know there is though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hounds are there, that, clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not belie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort, everywhere, while such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know, despair. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. There is a fire whose ruddy glow will cheer me for my wanderings past. And so though still where I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye, though when my spirit sink in woe, unheated swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude, endured too long, bids youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and over clouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way flow back discouraged to my breast, I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there that, clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not belie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then, the joys of youth that now depart, will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort, everywhere. While such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know, despair. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Though bleak these woods and damp the ground, with fallen leaves so thickly strewn, and cold the wind that wanders round, with wild and melancholy moan. There is a friendly roof, I know, might shield me from the wintry blast. There is a fire whose ruddy glow will cheer me for my wanderings past. And so, though still, where ere I go, cold, stranger glances meet my eye, though, when my spirit sinks in woe, unheeded swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude endured too long, bid's youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and overclouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way, flown back discourage to my breast, I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there, that clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not belie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine, in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart, may there be thawed and sweetly then, the joys of youth that now depart, will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be, my hope, my comfort, everywhere, while such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know despair. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. There is a friendly roof, I know, might shield me from the wintry blast. There is a fire whose ready glow will cheer me for my wanderings past. And so, though still, where ere I go, cold, stranger glances meet my eye. Though when my spirit sinks in woe, unheeded swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude endured too long, bids youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and overclouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way, flow back discourage to my breast. I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there that clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not be lie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort, everywhere. While such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know despair. And upon this recording is in the public domain. Leak these woods, and damp the ground, with fallen leaves so thickly strewn, and cold the wind that wanders round with wild and melancholy moan. There is a friendly roof I know, might shield me from the wintry blast. There is a fire whose ruddy glow will cheer me for my wandering's past. And so, though still, where ere I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye, though when my spirit sinks in woe, unheeded swells the unbidden sigh. Those solitude, endured too long, bids youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and over clouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way flow back discourage to my breast, I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there that clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not belie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly then the joys of youth that now depart will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be my hope, my comfort everywhere, while such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know despair. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The Consolation by Anne Bronte. Read for LibriVox.org by Revan Nautation. Though bleak these woods and damp the ground, with fallen leaves so thickly strong, and cold the wind that wanders round, with wild and melancholy moan. There is a friendly roof, I know, might shield me from the wintry blast. There is a fire whose ruddy glow will cheer me for my wandering's path. And so, though still, where ere I go, cold stranger glances meet my eye, though when my spirit sinks in woe, unheeded swells the unbidden sigh. Though solitude, endured too long, bids youthful joys too soon decay, makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, and overclouds my noon of day. When kindly thoughts that would have way, flow back discouraged to my breast, I know there is, though far away, a home where heart and soul may rest. Warm hands are there, that clasped in mine, the warmer heart will not be lie, while mirth and truth and friendship shine, in smiling lip and earnest eye. The ice that gathers round my heart may there be thawed, and sweetly, then, the joys of youth that now depart, will come to cheer my soul again. Though far I roam, that thought shall be, my hope, my comfort, everywhere. While such a home remains to me, my heart shall never know despair. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.