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, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
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 sound 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 live to make men free,
While God is marching on.