ON HIS BLINDNESS.
"Sonnet on His Blindness" (by John Milton, 1608-74). This is the most
stately and pathetic sonnet in existence. The soul enduring enforced
idleness and loss of power without repining. Inactivity made to serve a
higher end.
"All service ranks the same with God!
There is no first or last."
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.
JOHN MILTON.
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