Let all the sons of light
Expect their Lord to come,
Unlooked for, in the dead of night,
A sleep­ing world to doom:
Let all who Je­sus know,
To meet their God pre­pare,
And pass their eve­ry hour be­low
In watch­ing un­to pray­er.

Long as I watch, I keep
The bless­ing once be­stowed,
But for­feit, if again I sleep,
The rich­est grace of God;
Exposed and stripped of all,
Th’apos­tate’s doom I feel,
And from per­fect­ion’s sum­mit fall
Into the deep­est hell.