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.
Emily Brontë, Poetry of Hope: Classics of Inspirational Verse
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