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48

TO A BLIND FRIEND.

Beggar'd of thine inheritance of light,
The glorious eye-possession of the earth,—
Be thankful still: how few of those with sight
Can feel or use their privilege aright!
A soul undimm'd is of far greater worth,
Outweighs a million times the deepest dearth
Of flower-frail sense; and when from this short night
It shall emerge, how wonderful the Birth!
Emerge, as one who whilst he slowly strains
Up a dark narrow tower with sigh on sigh,
The fresh and brilliant air suddenly gains:
And lo! created instantaneously,
A sunbright world far stretching to the sky;
Woods, Lakes, and Rivers; Valleys, Hills, and Plains.