1 Who is that comes from Edom,
With His garments dyed in blood?
It is He who bought our freedom,
Bearing sin’s accursèd load;
Mighty Savior!
Who alone the wine press trod.

2 Nothing to Thy footstool bringing,
But unworthiness and guilt,
Solely to Thy merits clinging,
All my hopes on Thee are built;
Blessèd Jesus!
Thou canst save me if Thou wilt!

3 Who is this that comes from Edom?
But ’tis not as once He came;
Trembling thousands now must meet Him
On His car of cloud and flame;
Guilty sinners!
Who on earth despised His name.

4 Ne’er may I be of the number
Who shall thus His throne surround,
Startled from a guilty slumber
By the final trumpet sound;
Seeking shelter,
Where no shelter can be found!

5 Oh, Thou Mighty One of Edom,
Who the wine press trodd’st alone,
Let me triumph in Thy freedom
Which Thy bleeding love has won;
Then I’ll meet Thee,
Fearless, on Thy judgment throne!