O silent raging stream of flame which courses
Its way into my heart and fingertips,
Burning to ash all my nerves as it forces
Its way into the light; and where it rips
My parched and cracking flesh, it steals away
Sensation, for I seem to grasp at air;
And next to truly holding you, can they,
Whether the earth, or breeze, or stream compare?
Beside you, they are not; so this desire
Extinguishes their substance into smoke,
A rumor which once warmed, but not a fire.
Existence signifies but to evoke.
--I only feel through you, if that is feeling,
--So pity me, in adoration kneeling.
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