On pages worn, the gospel sings,
Words leaping forth, as if with wings.
"Keep vigilant, thy watchful gaze,
Prepare thyself, with humble praise."
Like melodies through sacred halls,
The Savior's wisdom softly calls.
Beware, dear souls, thou must prepare,
Lest Satan take thee unaware.
Let not the slothful heart prevail,
Nor heedless eyes that blindly sail.
Time's flowing sand shall soon run out,
As demons prey upon thy doubt.
Awake! Awake! The trumpet's sound,
The bridegroom cometh, justly crowned.
Be ready, as the virgins wise,
With lamps well lit, with faith's reprise.
For faithful hearts, will know His love,
And find repose, in realms above.
But woe to those who slumber deep,
The sickle seeks a soul to reap.
Let wisdom guide thy every choice,
With watchful eye, and eager voice.
The trumpet's blast, exacts a cost,
The unrepentant soul is lost.
But blessed are those, steadfast and true,
They'll see creation born anew.
An epilogue, where truth shall reign,
With no more tears and no more pain.
As New Jerusalem descends,
Adrift upon Elysian winds,
With joy and praise the people sing,
"Forevermore, the Lord is King!"