poems of the Renaissance, does exist in these two German
poems. Moreover, there is in them a full representation of aspiration to
the world beyond. But the Italian Renaissance lived for the earth alone,
and its loveliness; too close to earth to care for heaven.

It pleased Browning to throw himself fully into the soul of Johannes
Agricola; and he does it with so much personal fervour that it seems as
if, in one of his incarnations, he had been the man, and, for the moment
of his writing, was dominated by him. The mystic-passion fills the
poetry with keen and dazzling light, and it is worth while, from this
point of view, to compare the poem with Tennyson's _Sir Galahad_, and on
another side, with _St. Simeon Stylites_.

Johannes Agricola was one of the products of the reforming spirit of the
sixteenth century in Germany, one of its wild extremes. He believes that
God had chosen him among a few to be his for ever and for his own glory
from the foundation of the world. He did not say that all sin was
permitted to the saints, that what the flesh did was no matter, like
those wild fanatics, one of whom Scott draws in _Woodstock_; but he did
say, that if he sinned it made no matter to his election by God. Nay,
the immanence of God in him turned the poison to health, the filth to
jewels. Goodness and badness make no matter; God's choice is all. The
martyr for truth, the righteous man whose life has saved the world, but
who is not elected, is damned for ever in burning hell. "I am eternally
chosen; for that I praise God. I do not understand it. If I did, could I
praise Him? But I know my settled place in the divine decrees." I quote
the beginning. It is pregnant with superb spiritual audacity, and
kindled with imaginative pride.

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
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.
I lie where I have always lain,
God smiles as he has always smiled;
Ere suns and moons could wax and wane,
Ere stars were thunder-girt, or piled
The heavens, God thought on me his child;
Ordained a life for me, arrayed
Its circumstances every one
To the m