Poems (Gould, 1833)/The Great Refiner
THE GREAT REFINER."And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."
'T is sweet to feel that he, who tries The silver, takes his seatBeside the fire that purifies; Lest too intense a heat,Raised to consume the base alloy,The precious metal too destroy.
'T is good to think how well he knows The silver's power to bearThe ordeal to which it goes; And that, with skill and care,He 'll take it from the fire, when fitFor his own hand to polish it.
'T is blessedness to know that he The piece he has begunWill not forsake, till he can see, To prove the work well done,An image, by its brightness shown,The perfect likeness of his own.[1]
But ah! how much of earthly mould, Dark relicks of the mine,Lost from the ore must he behold, How long must he refine, Ere in the silver he can traceThe first faint semblance to his face.
Thou great Refiner! sit thou by Thy promise to fulfil,Moved by thy hand, beneath thine eye, And melted at thy will,O, may thy work forever shine,Reflecting beauty pure as thine!
- ↑ Silver, undergoing the process of refining, suddenly assumes an appearance of great brilliancy, when purified, and reflects objects like a mirror.