By Julia Ward Howe (1819-1910) and John W. Staffe
From: Guitar Picker -
The Battle Hymn of the Republic

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;
     Bm      E7	      A
His truth is marching on.

Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
D              A
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
     Bm      E7       A
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch fires
Of an 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 judgement seat;
O be swift, my souls 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 die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

He is coming like the glory
Of the morning on the wave;
He is wisdom to the mighty,
He is honour to the brave.
So the world shall be His footstool
And the soul of wrong His slave.
Our God is marching on.