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...TO THOMAS MOORE (1) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON IDEA: TO THE READER OF THESE SONNETS, INTRODUCTION by MICHAEL DRAYTON BATTLE SONG by EBENEZER ELLIOTT IKE WALTON'S PRAYER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY LONDON, 1802 (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A RHYMED REVIEW; 'LAUGHING MUSE' (BY ARTHUR GUITERMAN) by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE OLD SCHOOL HOUSE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |