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 lamps are trimmed and burning,

For the 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 lamps 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 lamps are shining.

Ah, my soul, bestir, awake 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 thy lamp is trimmed, and burneth.