Sonnet 19. When I consider how my light is spent... John Milton (1608-1674)

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
Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, least he returning chide,
Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,
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 yoak, they serve him best, his State

Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.

http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Milton
http://poemaseningles.blogspot.com/2005/03/john-milton-sonnet-19-when-i-consider.html