See how the fire rude silver purifies,
The sage refiner sitting watchful by,
And tempering heat intense, judiciously
With stream of cooler air, wherein there lies
Some rare completing power: at last he tries
If in the molten mass his face may lie
As clear as crystal that receives the sky.
Refined as silver pure, a bright surprise
Unto ourselves, shall we in that far stream
That bounds the throne of God, see clearest eyes
Through tribulation's furnace safely brought,
Beam bliss supernal. O to realize
Whilst here, what there in glorious life is wrought,
When chastened pure we breathe in paradise.