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 on 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...