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 bentTo serve therewith my Maker, and present  My true account, lest he returning chide;  “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”  … Continue reading “When I Consider How My Light Is Spent” by John Milton