Our every sin must be confessed,
All guile be taken from the breast;
A holy life must we maintain,
   If with the Saviour we would reign.

Be trimmed our lamps, our light appear,
Proclaim we Jesus draweth near;
That mercy’s closing hour is nigh,
   Will be the angel’s last loud cry.

Now are we drawing near the port,
Decisions soon all made in court,
The scene will close, the Lord will come,—
   And who with him will have a home?

To self we must be crucified,
Be purified, made white and tried,
Without one spot, and guileless be,
   To stand before his Majesty.

Oh! be our sleeping powers awake;
Eternal bliss is now at stake;
One wrong unrighted, spot or stain,
   Will bind in sin’s destructive chain.

Haste then, from every error flee;
Strive till you gain the victory.
Triumph in Jesus’ name alone,
   And sit with him upon his throne.

This right with his own blood he bought;
Oh! bliss beyond all human thought,
Where ransomed throngs the Lord adore,
   And sing free grace forevermore.

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