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John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Julia Ward Howe 1819-1910 John Bartlett

    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.
          Battle Hymn of the Republic.
    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.
          Battle Hymn of the Republic.
    Weave no more silks, ye Lyons looms,
  To deck our girls for gay delights!
The crimson flower of battle blooms,
  And solemn marches fill the nights.
          Our Orders.
    The flag of our stately battles, not struggles of wrath and greed,
Its stripes were a holy lesson, its spangles a deathless creed:
’T was red with the blood of freemen and white with the fear of the foe;
And the stars that fight in their courses ’gainst tyrants its symbols know.
          The Flag.