Page:Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral.djvu/68

Isaiah lxiii. 1—8.

SAY, heav'nly muse, what king, or mighty God,
That moves sublime from Idumea's road?
In Bozrah's dies, with martial glories join'd,
His purple vesture waves upon the wind.

Why thus enrob'd delights he to appear

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In the dread image of the Pow'r of war?

Compress'd in wrath the swelling wine-press groan'd,
It bled, and pour'd the gushing purple round.

"Mine was the act," th' Almighty Saviour said,

And shook the dazzling glories of his head,

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"When all forsook I trod the press alone,
"And conquer'd by omnipotence my own;
"For man's release sustain'd the pond'rous load,
"For man the wrath of an immortal God:

"To