| Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912. |
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| Elizabeth (Lloyd) Howell. 1811–1896 |
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| 110. Milton's Prayer of Patience |
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| I AM old and blind! | |
| Men point at me as smitten by God's frown; | |
| Afflicted and deserted of my kind, | |
| Yet am I not cast down. | |
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| I am weak, yet strong; | 5 |
| I murmur not that I no longer see; | |
| Poor, old, and helpless, I the more belong, | |
| Father Supreme! to Thee. | |
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| All-merciful One! | |
| When men are furthest, then art Thou most near, | 10 |
| When friends pass by, my weaknesses to shun, | |
| Thy chariot I hear. | |
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| Thy glorious face | |
| Is leaning toward me, and its holy light | |
| Shines in upon my lonely dwelling-place,— | 15 |
| And there is no more night. | |
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| On my bended knee | |
| I recognize Thy purpose clearly shown; | |
| My vision Thou hast dimmed, that I may see | |
| Thyself—Thyself alone. | 20 |
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| I have naught to fear: | |
| This darkness is the shadow of Thy wing; | |
| Beneath it I am almost sacred—here | |
| Can come no evil thing. | |
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| Oh, I seem to stand | 25 |
| Trembling, where foot of mortal ne'er hath been, | |
| Wrapped in that radiance from the sinless land, | |
| Which eye hath never seen! | |
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| Visions come and go: | |
| Shapes of resplendent beauty round me throng; | 30 |
| From angel lips I seem to hear the flow | |
| Of soft and holy song. | |
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| It is nothing now, | |
| When heaven is opening on my sightless eyes, | |
| When airs from Paradise refresh my brow, | 35 |
| That earth in darkness lies. | |
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| In a purer clime | |
| My being fills with rapture,—waves of thought | |
| Roll in upon my spirit,—strains sublime | |
| Break over me unsought. | 40 |
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| Give me now my lyre! | |
| I feel the stirrings of a gift divine: | |
| Within my bosom glows unearthly fire | |
| Lit by no skill of mine. | |
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