Many Many Moons/God Is at the Anvil

GOD IS AT THE ANVIL
God is at the anvil, beating out the sun;
  Where the molten metal spills,
  At His forge among the hills
He has hammered out the glory of a day that's done.

God is at the anvil, welding golden bars;
  In the scarlet-streaming flame
  He is fashioning a frame
For the shimmering silver beauty of the evening stars.