1 Who is this that comes from Edom,
All His raiment stained with blood;
To the captive speaking freedom;
Bringing and bestowing good:
Glorious in the garb He wears,
Glorious in the spoils He bears?

2 'Tis the Savior, now victorious,
Travelling onward in His might;
'Tis the Savior; O how glorious
To His people is the sight!
Satan conquered and the grave,
Jesus now is strong to save.

3 Why that blood His raiment staining?
'Tis the blood of many slain;
Of His foes there's none remaining,
None the contest to maintain.
Falln they are, no more to rise;
All their glory prostrate lies.

4 Mighty Victor, reign forever,
Wear the crown so dearly won;
Never shall Thy people, never,
Cease to sing what Thou hast done;
Thou hast fought Thy people's foes;
Thou hast healed Thy people's woes.