Ode to St. Sabas

might we burn again, each man fire-column to King
Fingers outstretched to heaven and to brothers, burning;
flame-crowned fathers faces shone like Saint Sabas
"Here is Abba Antony coming," and here band of prophets;
brighter still bake orange countenance in furnace of God!
And here band of Apostles! Here is my ghost, 
a happy trade in passion-prayerful ecstasy
Christ becometh us —yes and amen! 
might we bear courage to burn bright once again,
we babes of prophets - we are saints yet, and still, lovers of man.