JOHN BROWN'S body lies a-mould'ring in the grave, John Brown's body lies a-mould'ring in the grave, John Brown's body lies a-mould'ring in the grave, His soul is marching on! Chorus -- Glory! Glory Hallelujah! Glory! Glory Hallelujah! Glory! Glory Hallelujah! His soul is marching on. He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord! His soul is marching on. John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back. His soul is marching on. His pet lambs will meet him on the way, And they go marching on. They'll hang Joff Davis on a sour apple tree, As they go marching on. Now for the Union let's give three rousing cheers, As we go marching on. Hip, hip, hip, hip, Hurrah! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BEGGAR'S HOLIDAY, FR. BEGGAR'S BUSH by JOHN FLETCHER THE IMAGE IN LAVA by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE TEACHER by LESLIE PINCKNEY HILL PSALM 48 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE ROAD MENDERS by LAURENCE BINYON |