The Old Stoic
Emily Bronte
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.
Next 10 Poems
- Emily Bronte : The Philosopher
- Emily Bronte : The Prisoner
- Emily Bronte : The Sun Has Set
- Emily Bronte : The Visionary
- Emily Bronte : Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight
- Emily Bronte : To Imagination
- Emily Bronte : Wind Was Rough Which Tore, The
- Emily Bronte : Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place'
- Rupert Brooke : 1914 I: Peace
- Rupert Brooke : 1914 Ii: Safety
Previous 10 Poems
- Emily Bronte : The Night Is Darkening Round Me
- Emily Bronte : The Night Is Darkening Around Me
- Emily Bronte : The Night - Wind
- Emily Bronte : That Wind I Used To Hear It Swelling
- Emily Bronte : Sympathy
- Emily Bronte : Sun Has Set, The
- Emily Bronte : Stars
- Emily Bronte : Stanzas To -
- Emily Bronte : Stanzas
- Emily Bronte : Stanza