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THE SOUL STITHY, by                    
First Line: My soul, asleep between its body-throes
Last Line: And still the stithy-hammers rose and fell.


MY soul, asleep between its body-throes,
Mid leagues of darkness watch'd a furnace glare,
And breastless arms that wrought laborious there, --
Power without plan, wherefrom no purpose grows, --
Welding white metal on a forge with blows,
Whence stream'd the singing sparks like flaming hair,
Which whirling gusts ever abroad would bear:
And still the stithy hammers fell and rose.
And then I knew those sparks were souls of men,
And watch'd them driven like starlets down the wind.
A myriad died and left no trace to tell;
An hour like will-o'-the-wisps some lit the fen;
Now one would leave a trail of fire behind:
And still the stithy-hammers rose and fell.





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