Poem by Emily Jane Brontë

The Old Stoic

Riches I hold in light esteem;
And Love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a dreem
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 me swift days near their goal,
'Tis all that I implore;
In life and death, a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.

1. The Elder's Rebuke
2. Well Hast Thou Spoke
3. Warning and Reply
4. Shall Earth No More Inspire Thee
5. How Clear She Shines!

Print

5785 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version