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."


Hymn 1:29.
The ruin of Antichrist, Isa. 63. 4-7.

1 "I lift my banners," saith the Lord,
"Where Antichrist has stood,
"The city of my gospel-foes
"Shall be a field of blood.

2 "My heart has study'd just revenge,
"And now the day appears,
"The day of my redeem'd is come
"To wipe away their tears.

3 "Quite weary is my patience grown,