The Battle Hymn of the Republic

Julia Ward Howe
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.	 
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 his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:	 
            His day is marching on.	 
I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:	 
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,	 
            Since God is marching on."
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;	 
He is sifting out the hearts of men 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 men holy, let us die to make men free,	 
            While God is marching on.