A Poem by Emily Bronte

There are times when I come across a hitherto unknown poem that captivates my mind, and I am left numb on reading it out loud. Yesterday was such an occasion as I chanced upon the following poem by Emily Bronte.

The Old Stoic

Riches I hold in light esteem,

And Love I laugh to scorn;

And lust of fame was but a dream

That vanish'd 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.