Poem by John Milton

To Mr. Cyriack Skinner Upon His Blindness

Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear
To outward view, of blemish or of spot;
Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,
Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear
Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,
Or man or woman. Yet I argue not
Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear vp and steer
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?
The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply'd
In libertyes defence, my noble task,
Of which all Europe talks from side to side.
This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask
Content though blind, had I no better guide. 

1. To the Lord General Fairfax
2. Paradise Lost : Book 7
3. Paradise Lost : Book 6
4. Psalm 4 (Answer me when I call)
5. Paradise Lost : Book 11

Print

3265 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version