The Old Stoic

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The Old Stoic – 2 June 2007

Here is another poem by Emily Brontë who is probably best known as the author of the novel “Wuthering Heights.”

The Old Stoic
By Emily Brontë
(July 30, 1818 – December 19, 1848)

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!”

Yea, as my swift days near their goal,
’Tis all that I implore;
In life and death a chainless soul,
With courage to endure.

For more poetry and also stories, see:
http://all-creatures.org/poetrydir.html
 


"Joyful Curmudgeon"
An oxymoron?
No! I see all the beauty of God's creation and I'm joyful.  At the same time, I see all the suffering and corruption going on in the world, and feel called to help expose and end it so that we may have true peace and compassion.

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