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THE REFINER

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Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 15, 1858

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 12, No. 9.

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THE REFINER.

'Tis sweet to think that he who tries The silver, takes his seat Beside the fire which purifies, Lest too intense a heat, Raised to consume the base alloy, The precious metal too destroy.
'Tis good to think how well he knows The silver's power to bear The ordeal through which it goes; And that with skill and care He'll take it from the fire when fit, With his own hands to polish it.
'Tis blessedness to know that he The piece he has begun Will not forsake, till he can see The trying work well done— An image by its brightness shown, The perfect likeness of his own.
But ah! how much of earthly mould, Dark relics of the mine, Lost from the ore—must he behold, How long must he refine. Ere in the silver he can trace The first faint semblance of his face.
Thou great Refiner! sit thou by Thy purpose to fulfill; Moved by Thine hand—beneath Thine eye And melted at Thy will. O may thy work forever shine Reflecting beauty pure as Thine.—Sel.