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.