On His Blindness
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."
Here's a link to the song's words: http://theyalsoserve.expage.com/id13.html
Thanks much for posting this.
Only those who have lost or had to live without a wife, husband, father, mother, son, daughter, sister or brother for a couple of years know how deep this is.