John Brown's body lies a-mold'ring in the grave, John Brown's body lies a-mold'ring in the grave, John Brown's body lies a-mold'ring in the grave, His soul is marching on. Chorus Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! His soul is marching on! The stars of heaven are looking kindly down On the grave of old John Brown. He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord. His soul is marching on. John Brown died that the slave might be free, But his soul goes marching on. He captured Harper's Ferry with his nineteen men so true, And he frightened old Virginia till she trembled through and through; They hung him for a traitor, themselves the traitor crew, But his soul goes marching on. John Brown's knapsack is strapped to his back; His soul is marching on. His pet lambs will meet on the way And they'll go marching on. They will hang Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree As they go marching on. Now has come the glorious jubilee, When all mankind are free. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENING SONG OF THE THOUGHTFUL CHILD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD CACHE LA POUDRE by JAMES GALVIN EVERYBODY KNOWS by DAVID IGNATOW IN LOVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON THE PROPOSAL TO ERECT A MONUMENT IN ENGLAND TO LORD BYRON by EMMA LAZARUS THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM |