The Old Stoic

by Emily Brontë

The Old StoicRiches 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.

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1 Comment

Filed under Poem

One response to “The Old Stoic

  1. Bill Stuart

    Thanks for posting Bruce. Did you ever subscribe to Kim Goldberg;s site “pigsquashpress?

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