Ye wait­ing souls, arise,
With all the dead, awake!
Unto sal­va­tion wise,
Oil in your ves­sels take;
Upstarting at the mid­night cry,
Behold, the hea­ven­ly Bride­groom nigh!

He comes, He comes to call
The na­tions to His bar,
And take to glo­ry all
Who meet for glo­ry are;
Made rea­dy for your full re­ward,
Go forth with joy to meet your Lord.

Go, meet Him in the sky,
Your ev­er­last­ing friend;
Your head to glo­ri­fy,
With all His saints as­cend;
Ye pure in heart, ob­tain the grace
To see, with­out a veil, His face.

The ev­er­last­ing doors
Shall soon the saints re­ceive,
With se­raphs, thrones, and pow­ers,
In glo­ri­ous joy to live;
Far from a world of grief and sin,
With God eter­nal­ly shut in.

Then let us wait to hear
The trum­pet’s wel­come sound;
To see our Lord ap­pear,
May we be watch­ing found;
And when Thou dost the hea­vens bow,
Be found—as, Lord, Thou find’st us now.