O hear them march­ing, march­ing,
The le­gions of good will,
The men of peace who seek not
To bomb and maim and kill;
They march not to their con­quest
With bat­tle flags un­furled;
But with their gen­tle spir­it
They shall sub­due the world.

Through all the blood­stained ag­es
Their num­bers have in­creased,
The spir­it strug­gling up­ward
To ov­er­come the beast;
The meek who shall in­her­it
And rule the war­ring earth,
With pa­tient faith are bring­ing
The new re­gime to birth.

The men of war op­pose them,
And seek to bar the way,
The pow­ers of dark­ness striv­ing
To thwart the com­ing day;
But, led by un­seen forces,
Their hosts are march­ing still,
To build for fu­ture ages
The king­dom of good will.

A migh­ty cap­tain leads them,
The val­iant Prince of Peace;
They shall pos­sess the fu­ture,
And an­cient wrongs shall cease;
O men of good will, march­ing
To blood­less vic­to­ry,
We join your hosts in build­ing
The king­dom that shall be.