Bubble, bubble—muffled, dull and deep.
The anvil rings, and blow on blow is given.
Sharp and quick.
Then the forging, and the grinding, and the filing, and the whetting, with the shock of blade on blade, till the clatter of that smithy, mingling and dividing, mellowed, rose sweeter than the notes fabled of the sun, when he with his first rays smote upon the head of Memnon in wonder-loving Egypt; or the song heard by the wandering Greek hard by Charibdis, enticing the listening mariner to his death.
Aha! aha! thou hast found a new life, and a new action, greatest of metals.
Who are ye, who thus welcome me with a hymn of glory?
We are the light, the eldest born, begotten in love, in love to endure forever.
We were present at thy beginning, and saw the hand which moulded thee with fire.
We saw the joy of thy young days, and acknowledge thee a child of God, like unto ourselves.
We know thy offices, and the laws which rule thee, liquid or congealed, obedient to God’s will.