Dare you see a Soul at the "White Heat"? Then crouch within the door - Red - is the Fire's common tint - But when the quickened Ore Has sated Flame's conditions, She quivers from the Forge Without a color, but the light Of unanointed Blaze - Least Village, boasts it's 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 - | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WOMAN'S LOVE by JOHN MILTON HAY THE STARLIGHT NIGHT by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS GOD'S ACRE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW DEAD IN THE SIERRAS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER TACKING SHIP OFF SHORE by WALTER MITCHELL PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S BURIAL HYMN by WALT WHITMAN THE HOUSE OF THE FALSE PROPHET by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |