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 has loosed the fateful lightening
Of His terrible swift sword
His truth is marching onI 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
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 has loosed the fateful lightening Of His terrible swift sword His truth is marching onI 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