Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

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
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.

by John Milton
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - On His BlindnessEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top John Milton Poems

Analysis and Comments on On His Blindness

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem On His Blindness here.