| The Old Stoic Riches 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. Today's poem is in the public domain. |
| About This Poem "The Old Stoic" appeared in a volume of poetry compiled by the Brontë sisters--Charlotte, Emily, and Anne--and published in 1846. They wrote under masculine pseudonyms based on their real initials, calling their book Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell. |
| Poetry by Brontë 
(Everyman's Library, 1996)
|
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