Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
He is trapling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored
He have loosed the faiteful lightening of his terrible swift sword
His truth is marching on
Glory, Glory halleluhja
Glory, Glory halleluhja
Glory, Glory halleluhja
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 have read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps
His truth is marching on
Glory, Glory halleluhja
Glory, Glory halleluhja
Glory, Glory halleluhja
His truth is marching
I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnish'd rows of steel
As ye deal with my condemners so with you my grace shall deal
Let the hero, born of…
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