The Old Stoic
Riches I hold in light esteem
And Love I laugh to scorn
The 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!
Emily Bronte
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