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