Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
365
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
Emily Dickinson
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