Battle Hymn Of The Republic

Julia Howe

       It was the midst of the terrible U.S. Civil War.

       Deeply anguished at the growing conflict between the two sections of the country, Mrs. Julia Howe watched troops marching off to war singing “John Brown's Body,” a song about a man who had been hanged in his efforts to free the slaves. 

       Julia felt that the catchy camp meeting tune should have better words.  In a desire to phrase her own feelings about the dreadful events of the time, she scrawled the verses almost without looking at the paper.

       Before long the entire nation became inspired by her text and united in singing the new words with the old tune.  Mrs. Howe's hymn has been acclaimed through the years as one of our finest patriotic songs.

       At one time it was sung as a solo at a large rally attended by President Abraham Lincoln.  After the audience had responded with loud applause, the President, with tears in his eyes, cried out, “Sing it again!”  It was sung again. 

       And after more than a hundred years, Americans still join often in proclaiming, “Glory! Hallelujah! His truth 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 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 burnish'd rows of steel
As ye deal with my condemners
So with you my grace shall deal
Let the hero, born of woman
Crush the serpent with his heel
Since God is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Our God is marching on

He has sounded form 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

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
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 live to make men free
While God is marching on

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah
Our God is marching on