The old stoic _ emily jane bronte
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 goals,
'Tis all that I implore,
In life and death, a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.
--best poem ever :)