THE GREAT REFINER by Hannah Flagg Gould

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 28, 1856

THE GREAT REFINER.

By Hannah Flagg Gould

'Tis sweet to feel that he who tries The silver, takes his seat Beside the fire that purifies, Lest too intense a heat, Raised to consume the base alloy, The precious metals too, destroy.

'Tis good to think how well he knows The silver's power to bear, The ordeal to which it goes; And that, with skill and care He'll take it from the fire, when fit For his own hand to polish it.

'Tis blessedness to know that he, The piece he has begun, Will not forsake, till he can see To prove the 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 be behold, How long must he refine, Ere in the silver he can trace The first faint semblance to his face.

Thou great Refiner! sit thee by, Thy promise to fulfill, Moved by thy hand, beneath thine eye, And melted at thy will, O may thy work for ever shine, Reflecting beauty pure as Thine. [H. F. Gould.