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Poem	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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