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."