The Old Stoic
Riches I hold in light esteem,
And love I laugh to scorn,
And lust of fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn.
And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me Is,
“Leave the heart that now I bear,
And give me liberty!”
Yes, as my swift days near their goal,
‘Tis all that I implore –
In life and death, a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.
From Poems of Solitude by Emily Brontë