Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Then crouch within the door --
Red -- is the Fire's common tint --
But when the vivid Ore
Has vanquished Flame's conditions,
It quivers from the Forge
Without a color, but the light
Of unanointed Blaze.
Least Village has its Blacksmith
Whose Anvil's even ring
Stands symbol for the finer Forge
That soundless tugs -- within --
Refining these impatient Ores
With Hammer, and with Blaze
Until the Designated Light
Repudiate the Forge --

Added: Jan 9 2004 | Viewed: 2445 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Emily Dickinson
Poem: 365. Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Volume: Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Year: Published/Written in 1955
Poem of the Day: Mar 1 2002
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