Watchers, let your lights be burning,
Soon the Bridegroom will be here;
List! the footsteps now returning,
Rise to greet Him, He is near;
See your lights are trimmed and burning,
For your Lord at His returning.
Wake, awake, no time for sleeping,
Though the midnight hour be dark;
Faithfully your vigil keeping,
You shall greet Him;—watchers, hark!
Footsteps tell your Lord's returning,
See your lights are trimmed and burning.
Ah, the shame when He appeareth,—
Sleeping watchers, flickering light;
Ah, the sorrow when He neareth,
In the middle of the night;—
Drowsy, in the dark reclining,
While a myriad lights are shining.
Ah, my soul, bestir thee, wake thee,
Day is passing, soon 'tis night;
If the midnight hour o'ertake thee,
Will thy lamp send forth its light?
Wake, awake, thy Lord returneth,
See your light is trimmed and burneth.