Colley Cibber: The Blind Boy

O say what is that thing call’d Light,

Which I must ne’er enjoy;

What are the blessings of the sight,

O tell your poor blind boy!

You talk of wondrous things you see,

You say the sun shines bright;

I feel him warm but how can he,

Or make it day and night?

My day and night myself I make

Whene’er I sleep or play;

And could I ever keep awake

With me tw’ere always day.

With heavy sigh I often hear,

You mourn my hapless woe;

But sure with patience I can bear

A loss I ne’er can know.

Then let not what I cannot have

My cheer of mind destroy:

Whilst thus I sing I am a king,

Although a poor blind boy.

Sonny Boy Williamson: Eyesight To The Blind (Link)