For Mike

[boredomnessness]

318. On His Blindness

WHEN I consider how my light is spent  
  E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,  
  And that one Talent which is death to hide,  
  Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent  
To serve therewith my Maker, and present          5
  My true account, least he returning chide,  
  Doth God exact day-labour,

Comments

[senseless852]

i miss you, and if i were a jewish mother, i would say, "would it kill ya to call sometime!? oy gavolt!"