Gold in the furnace tried

Gold in the furnace tried
Ne'er loses aught but dross;
So is the Christian purified
And bettered by the cross.

Afflictions make us see,
What else would 'scape our sight.
How very foul and dim are we,
And God how pure and bright.

The punished child repents;
The parent's bowels move;
The offended father soon relents,
And turns with double love.

If God rebuke for pride,
He'll humble thy proud heart;
If for thy want of love he chide,
That love he will impart.

He shall by means like these
Thy stubborn temper break;
Soften thy heart by due degrees,
And make thy spirit meek.

His chastening, therefore, prize,
The privilege of a saint;
Their hearts are hard who that despise,
And theirs too weak who faint.