There was none to help; and I wondered that there was none to uphold: therefore Mine own arm brought salvation unto Me; and My fury, it upheld Me. Isaiah 63:5
Words: Isaac Watts, Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Book 1, 1707, number 29.
The ruin of Antichrist.
I lift My banner, saith the Lord,
“Where Antichrist has stood;
The city of My Gospel foes
Shall be a field of blood.
“My heart has studied just revenge,
And now the day appears;
The day of My redeemed is come
To wipe away their tears.
“Quite weary is My patience grown,
And bids My fury go;
Swift as the lightning it shall move,
And be as fatal too.
“I call for helpers, but in vain;
Then has My Gospel none?
Well, Mine own arm has might enough
To crush My foes alone.
Slaughter and My devouring sword
Shall walk the streets around,
Babel shall reel beneath My stroke,
And stagger to the ground.
Thy honors, O victorious King!
Thine own right hand shall raise,
While we Thy awful vengeance sing,
And our deliverer praise.