The triumph of Christ over the enemies of his church. Isa.63:1-3, etc.
What mighty man, or mighty God,
Comes travelling in state,
Along the Idumean road,
Away from Bozrah's gate?
The glory of his robes proclaim
'Tis some victorious king:
|'Tis I, the Just, th' Almighty One,
That your salvation bring.|
|Why, mighty Lord,| thy saints inquire,
|Why thine apparel's red?
And all thy vesture stained like those
Who in the wine-press tread?|
|I by myself have trod the press,
And crushed my foes alone;
My wrath has struck the rebels dead,
My fury stamped them down.
|'Tis Edom's blood that dyes my robes
With joyful scarlet stains;
The triumph that my raiment wears
Sprung from their bleeding veins.
|Thus shall the nations be destroyed
That dare insult my saints;
I have an arm t' avenge their wrongs,
An ear for their complaints.|