In my Commonplace...

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.”