All audio files can be found on our catalog page: https://librivox.org/evening-solace-by-charlotte-bronte/
Each fortnight a poem is chosen to be recorded by as many LibriVox volunteers as possible!Charlotte Brontë was an English novelist and poet, the eldest of the three Brontë sisters who survived into adulthood and whose novels became classics of English literature.
This poem is taken from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell . To evade contemporary prejudice against female writers, the Brontë sisters adopted masculine first names. All three retained the first letter of their first names: Charlotte became Currer Bell, Emily became Ellis Bell, and Anne became Acton Bell. (Summary by Wikipedia)
This fortnight's poem can be found here.
Project Code: Ua4HM2KC
New to recording? Please see our Newbie Guide to Recording for further instructions. A quick guide to our required technical settings can be found here. When you post your file, please tell the BC what name you would like to use in our catalog.
LibriVox recording settings: mono (1 channel), 44100 Hz sample rate, 128 kbps constant bit rate MP3. See the Tech Specs
Begin your reading with the abbreviated LibriVox disclaimer:
Leave ½ to 1 second of silence at the beginning.
Then read the poem:Evening Solace by Charlotte Brontë, read for librivox.org by [your name].
[Add, if you wish, date, and/or your location.]
At the end of your reading, leave a space and then say:The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;—
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
And nights in rosy riot fly,
While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion,
The memory of the Past may die.
But there are hours of lonely musing,
Such as in evening silence come,
When, soft as birds their pinions closing,
The heart's best feelings gather home.
Then in our souls there seems to languish
A tender grief that is not woe;
And thoughts that once wrung groans of anguish
Now cause but some mild tears to flow.
And feelings, once as strong as passions,
Float softly back—a faded dream;
Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,
The tale of others' sufferings seem.
Oh! when the heart is freshly bleeding,
How longs it for that time to be,
When, through the mist of years receding,
Its woes but live in reverie!
And it can dwell on moonlight glimmer,
On evening shade and loneliness;
And, while the sky grows dim and dimmer,
Feel no untold and strange distress—
Only a deeper impulse given
By lonely hour and darkened room,
To solemn thoughts that soar to heaven
Seeking a life and world to come.
Leave 5 seconds of silence at the end.End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.
Filename: eveningsolace_bronte_your initials in lowercase_128kb.mp3 (e.g. eveningsolace_bronte_klh_128kb.mp3)
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MC to select: aradlaw
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