Oh burnish now the silver of my soul
And scour it with Thine everlasting Love.
Hear how it chimes when struck to loud extol
The Son of Man and Deity and Dove.
Would that I ring with praise, like peeling bells,
To echo back Thine heart's most sacred beat;
My service show Thy Love reflected well
As here I labor, imitating Thee.
Thy fire melt my barren, silver moon
As beams of morning burn from the embrace
Of Thee, the Smith whose gentle hands remove
All blemishes that cloud Thy lovely face
That when Thine eyes do grace me with Thy gaze
Mine heart shall mirror Thine own perfect blaze.
Ephesians 5:1
Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children;
Philippians 2:15
so that you may become blameless and pure, "children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation." Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky
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