John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, read more

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, lest He returning chide, "Doth God exact day-labor, 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.".

O dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrecoverably dark! total eclipse,
Without all hope of day.

O dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrecoverably dark! total eclipse,
Without all hope of day.

What does not destroy me, makes me strong.

What does not destroy me, makes me strong.

These eyes, tho' clear
To outward view of blemish or of spot,
Bereft of light, their seeing read more

These eyes, tho' clear
To outward view of blemish or of spot,
Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot,
Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year,
Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
Right onward.

Surer to prosper than prosperity could have assur'd us.

Surer to prosper than prosperity could have assur'd us.