Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of
The Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes
Of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His
Terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
Glory, glory halleluia! Glory, glory,
Hallelulia!
Glory, glory, hallelulia! His truth is
Marching on.
I have seen Him in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening
Dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and
Flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never
Call retreat’
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His
Judgment seat;
O be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant,
My feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across
The sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you
And me,
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make
Men free,
While God is marching on.