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