Oh, who is this that cometh From Edom's crimson plain, With wounded side, with garments dyed ? Oh, tell me now Thy name, "I that saw thy soul's distress, A ransom gave; I that speak in righteousness, Mighty to save !
"Mighty to save ! .. Mighty to save ! . . Lord, I'll trust Thy wondrous love, Mighty to save !
2. Oh, why is Thine apparel So very deeply dyed ?â Like them that tread the wine-press red ? Oh, why this crimson tide ? "I the wine-press trod alone, 'Neath darkening skies; Of the people there was none Mighty to save!"
3. O bleeding Lamb, my Saviour, How couldst Thou bear this shame? With mercy fraught, Thine arm hath brought Salvation in Thy name ! "I the victory have won, Conquered the grave: Now the year of joy has comeâ Mighty to save!"