The Revelation

Robed in terrible majesty,
the Son of God goes riding forth.
Thousands, glorious procession,
follow his wake in radiant white,
luminescent, shining bright!

From the wedding he now is come,
to judge the world in righteousness.
Dreadful, his mien, trace of mercy
cannot be seen on that glist'ring face,
from his stern look, no hiding place!

He gathers up the grapes of wrath,
treads the winepress with great fury.
Blood gushes forth, wine of wicked vine,
even unto the horse's reins,
the liquor of the sinners' veins!

With the eagles encircling round,
feast with glee anticipating,
the Beast is very quickly seized,
False Prophet, easily taken,
in darkness cast, both forsaken.