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.