letra de the blind boy - william d. drake
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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 or night?
my day or night myself i make
whene’er i sleep or play;
and could i ever keep awake
with me ’twere always day
with heavy sighs 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
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