I look to at the gold smiths furnace 

Blazing hot, flames burning bright.

The miners come with gold nuggets.

Each coming in badges.

They come for their gold to be refined.

They come for their gold to be made pure.

They come for their gold to be made into vessels.

Vessels they cry, vessels 

Vessels of honor they tell the goldsmith.

So also I desire to be.

Unrefined gold that I am.

Gold filled with impurities.

My desire pass me through the furnace 

The purifiers furnace 

Mold me into a vessel of honor 

Though the pain from the heat 

Like gold may I remain 

Passing through every purifying stage

That I may be a vessel for a king 

That I may be used in the king's palace.