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.