Behold the Bride­groom! Hark the cry,
The dead awak­ing, rends the sky!
Go, vir­gins, He is near,
Your lamps all burn­ing clear;
He en­ters here the ris­ing light
Asunder bursts the gates of night.
In ho­ly garb, with lamp aglow,
To meet the Bride­groom forth I go.

The smiles of earth that turn to tears,
Its emp­ty joys and fool­ish fears
I leave, for Thou dost call—
Thou art my life, my all;
I would Thy beau­ty ev­er see,
Then let me, Bless­èd, cling to Thee.
In ho­ly garb, with lamp aglow,
To meet the Bride­groom forth I go.

For Thee I leave the world be­hind—
Thou art my bliss, O Bride­groom kind;
My beau­ty’s not mine own—
’Tis Thine, O Christ, alone;
The brid­al cham­ber I would see,
In per­fect hap­pi­ness to be.
In ho­ly garb, with lamp aglow,
To meet the Bride­groom forth I go.

O God, ex­alt­ed on Thy throne,
Who dwell’st in pu­ri­ty un­known,
Lo, now we hum­bly wait,
Thro wide the heav’n­ly gate,
And with the Bride­groom, of Thy grace,
Give us at Thy right hand a place.
In ho­ly garb, with lamp aglow,
To meet the Bride­groom forth I go.