ion: SIXTEENTH CORPS.]

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is tramping out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible quick sword;
His truth is marching on.

CHORUS.--Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

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 day is marching on.

CHORUS.--Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel,
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with my grace shall deal;
Let the hero born of woman crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on."

CHORUS.--Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

He has sounded forth 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.

CHORUS.--Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

In the beauties of the lillies 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_,
While God is marching on.

CHORUS.--Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

HOME, SWEET HOME.

(By John Howard Payne.)

KEY OF E FLAT.

[Illustration]

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home; there's no place like home
Oh, there's no place like home.

I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild,
And feel that my mother now thinks of her child
As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door
Thro' the woodbine whose fragrance shall cheer me no more.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc.

An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain;
Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again;
The birds, singing gaily, that came at my call;
Give me them, and that peace of mind, dearer than all.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home, etc.

[Illustration]

WHO WILL CARE FOR MOTHER NOW.

KEY OF B FLAT.

[Illustration: BRIG. GEN'L JOS. A. MOWER.]

Why am I so weak and weary?
See how faint my heated breath;
All around to me seems darkness;
Tell me, comrades, is this death?
Ah! how well I know y