Bride of the Lamb, awake! awake!
Why sleep for sorrow now?
The hope of glory, Christ is thine-
A child of glory thou.

Thy spirit, through the lonely night,
From earthly joy apart,
Hath sighed for one that’s far away-
The Bridegroom of thy heart.

But lo, the night is waning fast,
The breaking morn is near;
And Jesus comes, with voice of love,
Thy drooping heart to cheer.

He comes-for oh! His yearning heart
No more can bear delay-
To scenes of full unmingled joy,
To call His bride away.

This earth, the scene of all His woe-
A homeless wild to thee-
Full soon upon His heavenly throne
Its rightful King shall see.

Thou, too, shalt reign-He will not wear
His crown of joy alone!
And earth His royal Bride shall see
Beside Him on the throne.

Then weep no more! ’tis all thine own-
His crown, His joy divine,
And sweeter far than all beside,
He, He Himself, is thine.