Amid the visions borne of heaven’s flame,
Seven candles gleam in sacred line,
To Ephesus, thy love did once proclaim,
Yet now thy heart forsakes its first design.

Smyrna knows the weight of martyr’s crown,
While Pergamos with falsehoods dares to stray,
Thyatira’s vice pulls virtue down,
But Sardis sleeps, a watchman gone astray.

Philadelphia, steadfast, holds the key,
A door unbarred by mortal hands to claim,
Laodicea’s wealth blinds eyes to see,
Lukewarm, they spurn the Spirit’s holy flame.

To all, the call resounds through time’s great span:
Repent, endure—behold, the Son of Man.