First Line: O watchman on the mountain height,

O watchman on the mountain height,
Proclaim the coming day ;
Behold the spires of golden fires
Point upward far away.

Coming, yes, He's coming, the Day-spring from on high ;
Coming, yes, He's coming ; the promised hour is nigh ;
Coming, yes, He's coming ; let all the ransomed sing ;
The hills are bright with shining light ; all hail the coming King !

2 O watchman, bid the sleeping Church
Awake, arise, and pray ;
The heavenly Bridegroom soon will
And now is on His way. [come,
3 All hail to Zion's glorious King,
By prophets long foretold ;
Praise Him in song, ye angel throng,
Strike all your harps of gold.