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; His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: 5 1Ο He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, 1861. 15 20 |