Homer: Touched with Fire

Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,

Or, what's a heaven for?

"Andrea del Sarto" by ROBERT BROWNING, (1855)

If I must be touched with fire, Lord,
   ignite in me the red sprite of lightning!
Let my strands reach out of the white atmosphere
   into your black robe of space.
Let me be glorious, Lord; let me fling myself upwards,
   and play about the air.
Let me surge across the miles of clouds
   that hide the cities of the plain.

It is by your grace that the world will have
   seen me at last, is it not?
I have not hidden my blue jet, Lord,
   but struck it forth to fan the top of Heaven,
Let my hair become purple tendrils
   spread out regally across the tenuous ionosphere.
I will have danced in blood-red glory, been,
   and instantly not been again.

I do not want to be seen as Lucifer's advocate,
   easy and obvious.
I do not want my glory to be contemplated
   as an accident of madness.
I wish to illuminate this world for You.
I wish to rise to Heaven at last,
   perhaps to be a Light for my Maker.

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