The 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.