If in love thou bear the chastening rod.
Oh, who would cast away the gold
We have gathered in the furnace flame!
And who would wish again the dross
Here purged in our Redeemer's name?
Once when a new printing-press was installed in the Office (he always rejoiced when there was an increase of printing equipment), he wrote the following in anticipation of the Trumpet's being raised to louder blasts. See the music at the beginning of [Chapter XIV].
Onward moves the great eternal
In the order of his plan;
Louder, nearer rolls the thunder
Of his awful word to man.