| Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875. |
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| C. Cibber |
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| CXIX. The Blind Boy |
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| O SAY what is that thing call'd Light, | |
| Which I must ne'er enjoy; | |
| What are the blessings of the sight, | |
| O tell your poor blind boy! | |
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| You talk of wondrous things you see; | 5 |
| You say the sun shines bright: | |
| I feel him warm, but how can he | |
| Or make it day or night? | |
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| My day or night myself I make | |
| Whene'er I sleep or play; | 10 |
| And could I ever keep awake | |
| With me 'twere always day. | |
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| With heavy sighs I often hear | |
| You mourn my hapless woe; | |
| But sure with patience I can bear | 15 |
| A loss I ne'er can know. | |
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| Then let not what I cannot have | |
| My cheer of mind destroy; | |
| Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, | |
| Although a poor blind boy. | 20 |
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