Ten virgins, clothed in white,
The Bridegroom went to meet;
Their lamps were burning bright
To guide His welcome feet.
Five of the band were wise—
Their lamps with oil filled high;
The rest this care despise,
And take their vessels dry.
Long time the Lord abode—
Down came the shades of night—
The weary virgins nod,
And then they sleep outright.
At midnight came the cry
Upon their startled ear:
“Behold the Bridegroom nigh,
To light His steps appear!”
They trim their lamps; in vain
The foolish virgins toil—
“Our lamps are out, O deign
To give us of your oil!”
“Not so,” the wise ones cry;
“No oil have we to spare:
But swiftly run and buy,
That you the joy may share.”
They go to buy, when, lo!
The Bridegroom comes in state;
Within those ready go,
And shut to is the gate.
The foolish virgins now
Before the gateway crowd;
With terror on their brow
They knock and cry aloud:
“Lord, open to our call
Hast thou our names forgot?”
Sadly the accents fall,
“Depart, I know you not.”
Learn here, my child, how vain
This world, with all its lies;
Those who the kingdom gain
Alone are truly wise.