Ye servants of the Lord,
Each in his office wait,
Observant of His heavenly Word,
And watchful at His gate.
Let all your lamps be bright,
And trim the golden flame,
Gird up your loins, as in His sight,
For awful is His name.
Watch, ’tis your Lord’s command,
And while we speak, He’s near;
Mark the first signal of His hand,
And ready all appear.
O happy servant he,
In such a posture found!
He shall His Lord with rapture see,
And be with honor crowned.
Christ shall the banquet spread
With His own royal hand,
And raise that faithful servant’s head
Amidst the angelic band.