Awake

REUBEN POGSON

IF he should come one night and find me idly sleeping,
With lamp burned out, the oil of joy consumed!
If after all my work I reached the place of weeping,
Where anguish reigns in darkness unillumed!

Lest this should be, I'll spend my earthly days in filling
The lamp of thought with consecration's oil;
With charity and gentleness keep prayer a-winging;
With heavenly inspiration gladly toil.

Then when I hear the cry, "Behold, the bridegroom cometh,"
I'll take my lamp, with love divine aflame,
And with fleet foot, as one who in a race swift runneth,
Go forth to meet him, calling on his name.

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