It is the ecstatic mystical joy of one who
realises, that through no merit of his own, he is numbered among the
elect. Sir Thomas Browne quaintly pictured to himself the surprise
of the noble, upright men of antiquity, when they wake up in hell
simply because they did not believe on One of whom they had never
heard; so Johannes speculates on the ironical fate of monks, ascetics,
women and children, whose lives were full of innocence and purity,
who nevertheless reach ultimately the lake of fire. Praise God for it!
for if I could understand Him, I could not praise Him. How much more
noble this predestinating God is than one who should reward virtue,
and thus make eternal bliss a matter of calculation and bargain!
JOHANNES AGRICOLA IN MEDITATION
1836
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; splendour-proof
I keep the broods of stars aloof:
For I intend to get to God,
For 'tis to God I speed so fast,
For in God's breast, my own abode,
Those shoals of dazzling glory passed,
I lay my spirit down at last.
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