Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume III. Sorrow and Consolation. 1904. | | | | IV. Comfort and Cheer | | Sonnet: To Cyriack Skinner | | John Milton (1608–1674) |
| | | CYRIACK, this three years’ day, these eyes, though clear, | |
| To outward view, of blemish or of spot, | |
| Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot: | |
| Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear | |
| Of sun, or moon, or stars, throughout the year, | 5 |
| Or man or woman, yet I argue not | |
| Against Heaven’s hand or will, nor bate a jot | |
| Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer | |
| Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? | |
| The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied | 10 |
| In Liberty’s defence, my noble task, | |
| Of which all Europe rings from side to side. | |
| This thought might lead me through the world’s vain mask, | |
| Content, though blind, had I no better guide. | | | | |
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