 Parting by Charlotte Bronte, read for LibriVox.org by Amanda McGee. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn encouraged telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening when we're sitting by the fire, perchance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still, never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte, read for LibriVox.org by Bob Sherman. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting by the fire, perchance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. Parting by Charlotte Bronte, read for LibriVox.org by Brian Van Vliet. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us, a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting by the fire, perchance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and more none shall dare restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still, never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte Read for LibriVox.org by Cindy Jones There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping our remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another, as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening when we're sitting by the fire, perchance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting, give response of tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare constrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte. Read for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, will we think of one another as even better than we are? Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting by the fire, perchance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte, read for LibriVox.org by Ernst Batinama. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage, telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grievous, we'll just take them as they come. And then every day we'll leave us a merry love for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, will connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting by the fire, but once alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and when unsheltered restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte, read for LibreVox.org by Ellie. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the sordid ourselves of thirst, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry love for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we are parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, will connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting by the fire, but once alone, then shall heartless warm-heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bond-switch-chainers, which called human hands a fraud, and when unsheltered are the strainers, we can meet again in sord. So there's no use in weeping, be a cheerful spirit still, never doubt that fate is keeping, future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting. By Charlotte Bronte. Read for LibriVox.org. By Ken Sterry. There's no use in weeping, but we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another, and even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we'll truly love till death. In the evening when we're sitting by the fire per chance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte, read for LibreVox.org by Catherine. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and to a scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let his foolish grievous, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we are parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we truly love to death. In the evening when we are sitting by the fire, perchance alone, there's a heart with warm heart meeting, give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bounds which chain us, which could human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still, never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. We are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, will connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting by the fire per chance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bounds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping. Bear a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. This is a poem by Charlotte Bronte. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we've parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, will connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting by the fire per chance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. Then burst the bombs with chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us they can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, but our cheerful spirits still, never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day we'll leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we've parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us whom we truly love till death. In the evening when we're sitting by the fire per chance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bombs with chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, but our cheerful spirits still, never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte. Read for LibriVox.org by Ruth Golding. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed, and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day will leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us whom we truly love till death. In the evening when we're sitting by the fire perchance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte Read the LibriVox.org by Rave Notation There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day will leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we're parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening when we're sitting by the fire per chance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, they're a cheerful spirit still. Never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Parting by Charlotte Bronte, read for LibriVox.org by Secrets. There's no use in weeping, though we are condemned to part. There's such a thing as keeping a remembrance in one's heart. There's such a thing as dwelling on the thought ourselves have nursed and with scorn and courage telling the world to do its worst. We'll not let its follies grieve us, we'll just take them as they come, and then every day will leave us a merry laugh for home. When we've left each friend and brother, when we've parted wide and far, we will think of one another as even better than we are. Every glorious sight above us, every pleasant sight beneath, we'll connect with those that love us, whom we truly love till death. In the evening, when we're sitting, by the fire, per chance alone, then shall heart with warm heart meeting give responsive tone for tone. We can burst the bonds which chain us, which cold human hands have wrought, and where none shall dare restrain us, we can meet again in thought. So there's no use in weeping, bear a cheerful spirit still, never doubt that fate is keeping future good for present ill. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.