e 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."

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,
"And bids my fury go
"Swift as the lightning it shall move,
"And be as fatal too.

4 "I call for helpers but in vain:
"Then has my gospel none?
"Well, mine own arm has might enough
"To crush my foes alone.

5 "Slaughter and my devouring sword
"Shall walk the streets around,
"Babel shall reel beneath my stroke,
"And stagger to the ground."

6 Thy honours, O victorious King!
Thine own right-hand shall raise,
While we thy awful vengeance sing,
And our deliverer praise.

Hymn 1:30.
Prayer for deliverance answered, Isa. 26. 8-12 20 21.

1 In thine own ways, O God of love,
We wait the visits of thy grace,
Our souls desire is to thy Name,
And the remembrance of thy face.

2 My thoughts are searching, Lord, for thee,
'Mongst the black shades of lonesome night;
My earnest cries salute the skies
Before the dawn restore the light.

3 Look, how rebellious men deride
The tender patience of my God;
But they shall see thy lifted hand,
And feel the scourges of thy rod.

4 Hark, the Eternal rends the sky,
A mighty voice before him goes,
A voice of music to his friends,
But threatening thunder to his foes.

5 Come, children, to your Father's arms,
Hide in the chambers of my grace,
Till the fierce storms be overblown,
And my revenging fury cease.

6 My sword shall boast its thousands slain,
And drink the blood of haughty kings,
While heavenly peace around my flock
Stretches its soft and shady wings.

Hymn 1:31. [Supplement.]
The