By a flower -- By a letter — Summary

The speaker pictures herself in a forge, taking the smallest tokens of affection—a flower, a letter—and working them into something unbreakable. Love itself is “nimble,” quick and sly, so she’s in a hurry to “weld the Rivet faster” and make the bond “Final fast” above, as if hammered tight for eternity. She’s breathless, the anvil is breathless, but she refuses rest (“Repose”) and ignores the sooty, nosy faces jostling around the fire. The whole scene buzzes with sweaty, joyful urgency. There’s something almost defiant in the way she tells herself to “never mind” the fatigue and the onlookers—her focus is absolute. This isn’t a delicate courtship; it’s a love built with sparks and muscle, a stubborn insistence on making feeling permanent.