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."
Comments
Post your comment »
155. ... says
Its freakn boring!
Report this comment154. Prudy+gal says
Oh it vry awesome dude
Report this comment153. Hot+hunk says
Back
Report this comment152. T.vs.N says
i wanna is he was realy blind?
Report this comment151. #ff0000c3*.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+ says
i lyk this peam is gud it make mi spkng englsh skil improve
Report this comment150. #ff0000c3*.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+ says
Some wds is 2 dfclt 2 me dem
Report this comment