I’ve recently wrote a short story and somehow worked Emily Bronte into it. Wuthering Heights was always a favorite classic of mine, so I’m guessing that’s how she found her way into the story. In doing some research for my story titled, Lost Summer, I read several poems of Emily Bronte’s that I’ve never read before. Here is one of her poems, published in 1846, under her nom de plume (pen name), Ellis Bell.
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.
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.
