I'm a precious son of Zion- undone in the foundry of my Lord

The furnace of God's holiness, melted down until I'm poured

Into a mold which he has made of his chosen design

A form that pleases him the most is given to be mine.

And so the dross has been removed-Until my purity is proved.

I'm cast into a crown of Gold-To be cast at the feet of my Lord.

A perecious ornament to wear- His radient glory now I share.

Reflecting now his image bright-I am founfd precious in his sight.

So I surrender to the fire fueled by the stubble of fleshly desire.

Melted by intense holy flame till I find my image bearing his name.

Copyright 1994 Anthony Foster