1 What mighty man, or mighty God, Comes travelling in state, Along the Idumean road, Away from Bozrah's gate?
2 The glory of his robes proclaim 'Tis some victorious king: "'Tis I, the just, th' Almighty One, "That your salvation bring."
3 "Why, mighty Lord," thy saints enquire, "Why thine apparel red? "And all thy vesture stain'd like those "Who in the wine-press tread?"
4 "I by myself have trod the press, "And crush'd my foes alone, "My wrath has struck the rebels dead, "My fury stamp'd them down.
5 "'Tis Edom's blood that dyes my robes "With joyful scarlet stains, "The triumph that my raiment wears "Sprung from their bleeding veins.
6 "Thus shall the nations be destroy'd "That dare insult my saints, "I have an arm t' avenge their wrongs, "An ear for their complaints."