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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116133" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Johannes Agricola in Meditation</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's heaven above, and night by night<br> I look right through its gorgeous roof;<br>No suns and moons though e'er so bright<br> Avail to stop me; splendor-proof<br> I keep the broods of stars aloof:<br>For I intend to get to God<br> For 'tis to God I speed so fast,<br>For in God's breast my own abode,<br> Those shoals of dazzling glory, past,<br> I lay my spirit down at last. <br>I lie where I have always lain,<br> God smiles as he has always smiled;<br>Ere suns and moons could wax and wane,<br> Ere stars were thundergirt or piled<br> The heavens, God thought on me his child;<br>Ordained a life for me, arrayed<br> Its circumstances, every one<br>To the minutest; ay, God said<br> This head this hand should rest upon<br> Thus, ere he fashioned star or sun <br>And having thus created me,<br> Thus rooted me, he bade me grow,<br>Guiltless forever, like a tree<br> That buds and blooms, nor seeks to know<br> The law by which it prospers so:<br>But sure that thought and word and deed<br> All go to swell his love for me,<br>Me, made because that love had need<br> Of something irreversibly<br> Pledged solely its content to be. <br>Yes, yes, a tree which must ascend,<br> No poison-gourd foredoomed to stoop!<br>I have God's warrant, could I blend<br> All hideous sins, as in a cup,<br> To drink the mingled venoms up;<br>Secure my nature will convert<br> The draught to blossoming gladness fast:<br>While sweet dews turn to the gourd's hurt,<br> And bloat, and while they bloat it, blast,<br> As from the first its lot was cast. <br>For as I lie, smiled on, full-fed<br> By unexhausted power to bless,<br>I gaze below on hell's fierce bed,<br> And those its waves of flame oppress,<br> Swarming in ghastly wretchedness;<br>Whose life on earth aspired to be<br> One alter-smoke, so pure!—to win<br>If not love like God's love for me,<br> At least to keep his anger in;<br> And all their striving turned to sin. <br>Priest, doctor, hermit, monk grown white<br> With prayer, the broken-hearted nun,<br>The martyr, the wan acolyte,<br> The incense-swinging child,—undone<br> Before God fashioned star or sun!<br>God, whom I praise; how could I praise,<br> If such as I might understand,<br>Make out and reckon on his ways,<br> And bargain for his love, and stand,<br>Paying a price, at his right hand?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</a> from <i>Cavalier Tunes</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116133" data-title="Johannes Agricola in Meditation de Robert Browning" data-description="There's heaven above, and night by night/ I look right through its gorgeous roof;/No suns and moons though e'er so bright/ Avail to stop me; splendor-proof/ I keep the broods of stars aloof:/For I intend to get to God/ For 'tis to God I speed so f..."></div>
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