(15 September 1889 – 22 May 1948 / Clarendon)

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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,
My 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.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: fate, red, alone, world, heart, fear

Comments about this poem (Baptism by Claude McKay )

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  • Eithne Queen of Celts (5/29/2009 3:34:00 AM)

    Let the Holy fire purify anything that is not entirely clean. Wonderful.

    1 person liked.
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