‘Creation of Light’ by Gustave Dore, Public Domain

Dear Readers, this is the third and last poem that I remember my Mother reciting for me when I was a child: she knew it as ‘On His Blindness’. There is some debate over whether the ‘talent’ that Milton is talking about is his poetic talent, or his ability to translate documents from foreign languages, which was his job at the Commonwealth Office (and would have been impossible to do without sight I imagine), but clearly blindness is a theme. And the last line has been used so many times, in so many contexts, that it’s almost a shock to find it here. See what you think.

Sonnet 19: When I consider how my light is spent

By John Milton

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-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.”