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The poem
Battle Hymn of the Republic by 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 fatal lightning of his terrible
swift sword:
His Truth is marching on.
have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred
circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews
and damps;
an 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:
Oh! 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. |