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Lyrics: Oh His Blindness (Sonnet by John Milton) |
When I consider how my light is spent
E’re 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,
Does God exact day-labour, light deny’d,
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 milde yoak, 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 waite.
They also serve who only stand and waite.” |
©2013 Jim Radford. All rights reserved. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.
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