StoryTitle("caps", "On His Blindness") ?>
by John Milton
PoemStart() ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "When I consider how my light is spent ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "E're half my days, in this dark world and wide; ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "And that one talent which is death to hide, ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "To serve therewith my Maker, and present", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "My true account, least he returning chide; ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0DQ", "", "\"Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?\" ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "I fondly ask. But patience to prevent ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "That murmur, soon replies, \"God doth not need ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Either man's work or his own gifts; who best", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state ", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "And post o'er land and ocean without rest;", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "They also serve who only stand and wait.\" ", "") ?>
PoemEnd() ?>