A thrilling cry—we hear the sound

A thrilling cry—we hear the sound;The faithful watchmen lift their voice;From land to land the world around—It bids the saints rejoice:Ye pilgrims, rise, break forth and singThe glorious coming of your King;The thrilling cry—we hear it sound,"Prepare to meet your Lord."

Blow, watchmen, blow the certain sound,For dark and dangerous is the night;And daring scoffers gather round—The evil servants smite.Ye faithful ones the strict watch keep,With lamps well trimmed, and do not sleep—The thrilling cry, we hear it sound,"Prepare to meet your Lord."

In earth's dark hour God's word gives light,Its rays dispel the thickening gloom;The path to glory now is bright—The Bridegroom soon will come.Then lift your voices, saints, and singYour sweetest strains to Zion's King—The thrilling cry—we hear it sound,"Prepare to meet your Lord."