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. 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! 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. 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! 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!