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.
He has sounded forth the trumpet That shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of
men Before His judgement seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer
Him; Be jubilant, my feet; Our God is marching on.
Chorus
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.
