The lamps are trimmed and the oil is kept,for the night grows long and the watch is deep.
She washes her garments white as snow,
the linen woven of deeds that show
the love that answers the Bridegroom’s call,before the shadows of evening fall.
She sets her house in order still,
and quiets the clamor of her own will.
No spot remains where the world once clung,the veil is lifted, the song is sung
of mercy received and mercy given,
of a heart made ready for the opened heaven.
She listens beyond the courtyard gate
for the cry that rises, early or late
“Behold, He comes.” She does not sleep.
The promise is kept that the faithful keep
eyes toward the dawn, hands free of stain,
waiting the hour He calls her name.
Adorned not first with gold or gem,
but with the beauty He placed in them.
patience that endured the long delay,
hope that refused to turn away,
and love made pure beneath His gaze,
prepared to meet Him face to face.
Then let the trumpet sound and the heavens part,the Bride stands ready, whole in heart.
The marriage supper is set and near
the One she longed for, the One draws near.