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