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 unannointed 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 -
Emily Dickinson
The Poems of Emily Dickinson (Franklin), 401
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