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.|