Classic Poem

My friends, I cannot labor,
I will try and get along;
My friends, I cannot labor,
I will try to sell my song.
I trust that you will buy it,
So pray be not unkind.
May heaven above preserve you
From ever being blind.

You now have got your eyesight
But ah! you cannot tell
When He shall take it from you
Who doeth all things well.
I trust that in His wisdom,
Who everything designed;
Oh, it is a sad thing on earth
For one that is blind.

You say that a large steamboat
A wonder proved to be.
But at her I can never look.
Dear friends, I cannot see.
You say the day is lovely,
But you must bear in mind,
I cannot see its beauty.
Alas, dear friends, I'm blind.

You view your brother's labor
Upon the natural soil.
If I only had my eyesight,
How I would love to toil!
If I could only see once more
The friends I love so well;
The joy that this poor heart would feel.
No human tongue can tell.