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.