English Chronicles of Time ( On his Blindness) 2.5
On His Blindness
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
Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, least 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 re Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.