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 prayerThat moves my lips for meIs, '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.