Sonnet 19--Milton

When I consider how my life is spent,
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me, useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He, returning, chide--
"Doth God exact day labor, light denied?"
I fondly ask, but patience to prevent
That mummer, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work of His own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state
Is kingly. Thoughts at His bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean, without rest.
They also serve who only stand and wait."

This is me

Who can cheer the heart like Jesus,
By His presence all divine?
True and tender, pure and precious,
O how blest to call Him mine!

All that thrills my soul is Jesus,
He is more than life to me;
And the fairest of ten thousand
In my blessed Lord I see.

Love of Christ so freely given,
Grace of God beyond degree,
Mercy higher than the heaven,
Deeper than the deepest sea!

All that thrills my soul is Jesus,
He is more than life to me;
And the fairest of ten thousand
In my blessed Lord I see.

What a wonderful redemption!
Never can a mortal know
How my sin, tho red like crimson,
Can be whiter than the snow.

All that thrills my soul is Jesus,
He is more than life to me;
And the fairest of ten thousand
In my blessed Lord I see.

Every need His hand supplying,
Every good in Him I see;
On His strength divine relying,
He is all in all to me.

All that thrills my soul is Jesus,
He is more than life to me;
And the fairest of ten thousand
In my blessed Lord I see.

By the crystal flowing river
With the ransomed I will sing,
And forever and forever
Praise and glorify the King

All that thrills my soul is Jesus,
He is more than life to me;
And the fairest of ten thousand
In my blessed Lord I see.