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On His Blindness by John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere 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

My true account, lest he returning chide,

"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"

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

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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  1. 30 Dec. 2012
    233. LadyTee says

    it de best poem evr

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  2. 23 Nov. 2012
    232. #00ff00/THUSO/+/M/ says

    What a magnificent poem,dis remindz me of ma brada,whom nevr came 2 c again. Its jst a grief in ma hrt,thou poem it slf contribute 2wardz ma feelingz un2 hm. Awe,awe. M j'khu.ralt ko itieleng . Sekgosese:'(

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  3. 11 Nov. 2012
    231. D@!ZZ�+K@...+NVM says

    Dis poem is amazing

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  4. 9 Nov. 2012
    230. (H)LUV(H)MAKER(c) says

    It teach me smtin

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  5. 24 Oct. 2012
    229. Mabutho413 says

    Thi poem is just amazing

    Report this comment
  6. 18 Oct. 2012
    228. Teko+mababy says

    Ths poem thy teach us smthng

    Report this comment
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