Cyriack, this three years' day these eyes, though clear br To outward view of blemish or of spot, br Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; br Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear br Of sun or moon or star throughout the year, br Or man or woman. Yet I argue not br Against Heav'n's hand or will, not bate a jot br Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer br Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? br The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied br In liberty's defence, my noble task, br Of which all Europe talks from side to side. br This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask br Content, though blind, had I no better guide.