Robert Bridges, ed. (1844–1930). The Spirit of Man: An Anthology. 1916. | | | | On His Blindness |
John Milton (1608–1674) |
| | | WHEN 1 I consider how my light is spent | |
| E’er half my days, in this dark world and wide, | |
| And that one Talent which is death to hide | |
| Lodg’d with me useless, though my Soul more bent | |
| To serve therewith my Maker and present | 5 |
| My true account, least he returning chide,— | |
| Doth God exact day-labour, light deny’d? | |
| I fondly ask: But patience, to prevent | |
| That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need | |
| Either man’s work or his own gifts: who best | 10 |
| Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his State | |
| Is Kingly: Thousands at his bidding speed | |
| And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest: | |
| They also serve who only stand and wait. | |
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