Sonnet XIX
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 there with my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
Doth God exact day-labor, 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
It has taken the speaker six lines to get through the part of the sentence that begins “When.” Now he goes on to say what happens. He wonders if God demands that people undertake hard, physical work, when they don’t have any light, which could mean vision specifically or talents in general.
Sonnet 19: When I Consider How My Light Is Spent