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( Born Dec. 9. 1608) On His Being Arrived to the Age of Twenty-three
HOW soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, | |
| Stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year! | |
| My hasting days fly on with full career, | |
| But my late spring no bud or blossom showeth. | |
| Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, | 5 |
| That I to manhood am arrived so near; | |
| And inward ripeness doth much less appear | |
| That some more timely-happy spirits indu’th. | |
| Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow, | |
| It shall be still in strictest measure even | 10 |
| To that same lot, however mean or high, | |
| Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven: | |
| All is, if I have grace to use it so, | |
| As ever in my great Task-master’s eye. | |
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On His Blindness
WHEN I consider how my light is spent | 15 |
| 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— | 20 |
| “Doth God exact day-labor, 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 | 25 |
| Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, | |
| And post o’er land and ocean without rest; | |
| They also serve who only stand and wait.” | |
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