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 watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have build-ed 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 judgement 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 me holy, let us live to make men free,
While God is marching on.