The Burning-Glass

 A SHAFT of fire that falls like dew,
 And melts and maddens all my blood,
From out thy spirit flashes through
 The burning-glass of womanhood.



Only so far; here must I stay:
 Nearer I miss the light, the fire;
I must endure the torturing ray,
 And with all beauty, all desire.



Ah, time long must the effort be,
 And far the way that I must go
To bring my spirit unto thee,
 Behind the glass, within the glow.

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