The Old Stoic

Riches I hold in light esteem;
And Love I laught 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 Jane Brontė

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Jan Thor
www.janthor.com
jan@janthor.de