He knew He had ore that could stand the test,
And He wanted the finest gold
To mold to a crown for the King to wear,
Set with gems of a price untold.

So He laid our gold in the burning fire,
Though we fain would have told Him, "Nay,"
And He watched the dross that we had not seen
As it melted and passed away.

And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright,
But our eyes were so dim with tears;
We saw but the fire – not the Master's hand And questioned with anxious fears.

Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow,
As it mirrored a Form above
That bent o'er the fire, though unseen by us,
With looks of ineffable love.

Can we think that it pleases His loving heart
To cause us a moment's pain?
Ah, No! but He saw through the present dross
The bless of eternal gain.

So He waited there with a watchful eye,
With a love that is strong and sure,
And His gold did not suffer a whit more heat
Than was needed to make it pure.

Marvin Lewis