Be trimmed our lamps, our light appear,
Proclaim we Jesus draweth near;
That mercy’s closing hour is nigh,
Will be the angel’s last loud cry.
Now are we drawing near the port,
Decisions soon all made in court,
The scene will close, the Lord will come,—
And who with him will have a home?
To self we must be crucified,
Be purified, made white and tried,