Baptism

Into the furnace let me go alone;

Stay you without in terror of the heat. 



I will go naked in—for thus 'tis sweet—

Into the weird depths of the hottest zone. 

I will not quiver in the frailest bone, 

You will not note a flicker of defeat; 

My heart shall tremble not its fate to meet, 

Nor mouth give utterance to any moan.

The yawning oven spits forth fiery spears; 

Red aspish tongues shout wordlessly my name. 

Desire destroys, consumes my mortal fears, 

Transforming me into a shape of flame. 



I will come out, back to your world of tears, 

A stronger soul within a finer frame.