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 builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read the 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 all 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 us holy, let us die that all be free! While God is marching on;