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.
Credit
This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on July 14, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive. This poem is in the public domain.
Date Published
01/01/1846