The Old Stoic Thomas Pasatieri

Riches I hold in light esteem
And Love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a dream
That vanish'd 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
'T is all that I implore:
In life and death a chainless soul
With courage to endure