8,8,8,8 tr., John Brownlie I The Bridegroom comes! My soul, awake, And slumber from thine eyelids shake; Hark! in the midnight hour the cry; Bestir, my soul, for He is nigh. II Now trim your lamp, and let its light Illume the darkness of the night; And with the tarrying host attend The Bridegroom, as the Bridegroom's friend. III Hast thou no oil? O foolish soul! Why didst thou not the hours control? Why in the darkness slumber still, Without the oil your lamp to fill? IV Go, get your oil, -- but no, too late! The Bridegroom's come, and closed the gate; -- "O let me knock, for He is kind, And will not leave my soul behind." V "O let me in, my lamp's aglow; How could I, Lord, Thy coming know? 'Twas night, I slumbered, -- let me in: Forgive, O Lord, forgive my sin." VI Too late! The time has gone apace; Too late, 'tis gone, the hour of grace; O soul of mine, awake, awake, And slumber from thine eyelids shake. |