1 "I lift my banner (saith the Lord,
"Where Antichrist has stood;
"The city of my gospel foes
"Shall be a field of blood.
2 "My heart has study'd just revenge,
"And now the day appears;
"The day of my redeem'd is come
"To wipe away their tears.
3 "Quite weary is my patience grown,
"And bids my fury go:
"Swift as the light'ning it shall move,
"And be as fatal too.
4 "I call for helpers, but in vain:
"Then has my gospel none?
"Well, mine own arm has might enough
"To crush my foes alone.
5 "Slaughter and my devouring sword
"Shall walk the streets around,
"Babel shall reel beneath my stroke,
"And stagger to the ground."
6 Thy honours, O victorious king!
Thine own right hand shall raise,
While we thy awful vengeance sing,
And our deliv'rer praise.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | I lift my banner (saith the Lord) |
Title: | The second part; or, the ruin of Antichrist |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |
Scripture: | ; |