1
O who is this that cometh
From Edom's crimson plain.
With wounded side, with garments dyed?
O tell me now Thy name.
"I that saw thy soul's distress,
A ransom gave;
I that speak in rightiousness,
Mighty to save."

Refrain
Mighty to save, Mighty to save,
Mighty to save;
Lord, I trust Thy wondrous love,
Mighty to save.

2
O why is Thine apparel,
With reeking gore all dyed,
Like them that tread the wine press red?
O why this bloody 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 could'st Thou bear this shame?
With mercy fraught, mine own arm brought
Salvation in My name;
I the bloody fight have won,
Conquered the grave,
Now the year of joy has come—
Mighty to save."