Stanza 1
When descending from the sky
The Bridegroom shall appear;
And the solemn midnight cry,
Shall call professors near:
How the sound our hearts will damp!
How will shame o'erspread each face!
If we only have a lamp,
Without the oil of grace.
Stanza 2
Foolish virgins then will wake
And seek for a supply;
But in vain the pains they take
To borrow or to buy:
Then with those they now despise,
Earnestly they'll wish to share;
But the best, among the wise,
Will have no oil to spare.
Stanza 3
Wise are they, and truly blest,
Who then shall ready be
But despair will seize the rest,
And dreadful misery:
Once, they'll cry, we scorned to doubt,
Though in lies our trust we put;
Now our lamp of hope is out,
The door of mercy shut.
Stanza 4
If they then presume to plead,
"Lord open to us now;
We on earth have heard and prayed,
And with thy saints did bow:"
He will answer from his throne,
"Though you with my people mixed,
Yet to me you ne'er were known,
Depart, your doom is fixed."
Stanza 5
O that none who worship here
May hear that word, Depart!
LORD impress a godly fear
On each professor's heart:
Help us, Lord, to search the camp,
Let us not ourselves beguile;
Trusting to a dying lamp
Without a stock of oil.