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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421406" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On His Blindness</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I consider how my light is spent<br>Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,<br>And that one talent which is death to hide<br>Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent<br>To serve therewith my Maker, and present<br>My true account, lest he returning chide,<br>&quot;Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?&quot;<br>I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent<br>That murmur, soon replies: &quot;God doth not need<br>Either man's work or his own gifts: who best<br>Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state<br>Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed<br>And post o'er land and ocean without rest:<br>They also serve who only stand and wait.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Milton">John Milton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421406" data-title="On His Blindness de John Milton" data-description="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 retur..."></div>
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