Thursday, November 11, 2010

Sonnet XIX: When I Consider How my Light is Spent

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."

John Milton

4 comments:

Tamara Hart Heiner said...

I'm amazed that people could write sonnets. I've tried. hard stuff.

Jami said...

Bad sonnets aren't that hard. Read a little Dr. Seuss, get yourself a rhyming dictionary, and you're good to go. But this stuff--amazing.

The Crash Test Dummy said...

I love that sonnet so much. Thanks for the remind.


LY LY LY LY LY LY LY

p.s. LY!

The Crash Test Dummy said...

Hi! Just wanted to stop by again and say HAPPY THANKSGIVING.

LUB YOU