Poesy A heavenly poetic haven.

Part One: Life XXXIII

Emily Dickonson
Category: Poesy

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Part One: Life


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 sated flame’s conditions,         5
  Its quivering substance plays
Without a color but the light
  Of unanointed blaze.
Least village boasts its blacksmith,
  Whose anvil’s even din         10
Stands symbol for the finer forge
  That soundless tugs within,
Refining these impatient ores
  With hammer and with blaze,
Until the designated light         15
  Repudiate the forge.

This article was published on:
Sunday, July 31, 2005

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