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

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