Emily Jane Brontë 

 

 

 

 

 

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!'

 

Yea, as my swift days near their goal,

'Tis all that I implore:

In life and death, a chainless soul,

With courage to endure.

 

 

 

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Spellbound

 

 

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

 

 

 

Emily Brontë 

(1818-1848)