Patriotic hymns

Hymns sung on patriotic or national occasions


Posted in 4/4 Time, Funeral hymns, Hymns, Patriotic hymns, Wedding hymns | 0 comments

D                     G       D 
And did those feet in ancient time 
G         D         Em        G 
walk upon England's mountains green? 
    D            A       D 
And was the Holy Lamb of God 
   A         D            E    A 
on England's pleasant pastures seen? 

    A       Em     Am   Em 
And did the countenance divine 
               G     C       G 
shine forth upon our clouded hills? 
        Em             A  D 
And was Jerusalem builded here 
      G     D    G       D 
among these dark satanic mills 

Bring me my bow of burning gold! 
Bring me my arrows of de-sire! 
Bring me my spear! O Clouds unfold! 
Bring me my chariot of fire! 

I will not cease from mental fight, 
nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, 
'til we have built Jerusalem 
in England's green and pleasant land!
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The Battle Hymn of the Republic

Posted in 4/4 Time, Fourth of July, Hymns, Key of G, Patriotic hymns | 2 comments

Mine eyes have seen the glory,

Of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage
            G                  D
Where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning
        B              Em
Of His terrible swift sword;
     Am       D       G
His truth is marching on.

     Glory, glory, hallelujah!
      C                  G
     Glory, glory, hallelujah!
      G                  Em
     Glory, glory, hallelujah!
          Am       D       G
     His truth is marching on.

I have seen him the watchfires
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 burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with my contemners
So with you my grace shall deal."
Let the hero born of woman
Crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet
That shall never call retreat;
He is shifting out the hearts of men
Before his judgement seat.
O be swift my soul to answer him,
Be jubilant my feet;
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 die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
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