Riches I hold in light esteem,And love I laugh to scorn,And lust of fame was but a dreamThat 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.
-Emily Brontë
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