The Eastern sky o’er Dura’s Plain
Was tinged with reddened light.
The smelting furnace’s bright flame,
An oft familiar sight.
The fiery monster from its seat
Belched out strong fumes and swelt’ring heat.
The blackened stokers toiled each day
Producing ore and gold.
Labouring and shov’lling, come what may,
Toiling with heart and soul.
Slaves of the fiery monster, They
Lived ‘neath its fumes day after day.
Through sweat and labour day and night,
There rose, by King’s decree,
A golden image, of great height,
A pagan deity.
It dominated Plain and sky
This glistening god, ninety feet high.
And then they came, from far and wide,
The great, the VIP.
They gathered, standing side by side,
For the huge cer’mony.
Whilst in the background still there burned
The monster fire that fumed and churned.
The King’s command: ‘At given sign,
When flute and horn and lyre,
And other instruments combine
In a symphonic choir.
Before the statue, worship, fall,
Acknowledge I am King of all.’
But three young men, God-fearing, stood
While all around bowed low.
Righteous and upright, firm and good,
They wanted all to know
That God in Heaven is on the throne
And worship is to Him alone.
The fiery monster did not pause,
But blazed in heat intense,
Waiting as if with open jaws
In vigilant suspense .
The furnace had a counterpart -
The fiery rage of the King’s heart.
But three young men God-fearing stood,
Facing the fire and King.
They knew, they trusted, God who’s good
And left the end with Him:
Dying, or miracle release?
Their hearts were calm with perfect peace.
Then FOUR young men in safety walked,
As furnace path they trod,
In fellowship together talked,
The three men and their God.
‘T’was if they strolled through garden fair
And not the monster’s fiery lair.
‘Come out, Come out,’ bellowed the King
Now horror-struck with fear.
And three emerged, all witnessing
That God was very near.
‘The One whose wonder you’ve displayed
Is Sovereign King o’er all He’s made.’
Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego
Unsinged. unscorched, unharmed.
You trusted God. You saw your foe
Subdued, held back and calmed.
Even the smell of fire can’t cling
To those who serve their Lord and King.
Instead, a pungent fragrance sweet
Marked out the path they trod.
A fragrance nothing could delete
Because it streamed from God.
Lord, through my life your truth declare
And spread your fragrance everywhere.
2 Corinthians 2:14-16
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