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...SOUTH WIND by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE PRAYER OF AGASSIZ by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SUMMER'S JOE by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON WELCOME GUEST by JEAN D. ARMSTRONG THE RANGE OF BEAUTY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE ASOLANDO: REPHAN by ROBERT BROWNING ON THE MEMORY OF MR. EDWARD KING, DROWNED IN THE IRISH SEAS by JOHN CLEVELAND |