JOHN BROWN'S SONG.* John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave; He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord! He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord! John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back! His soul is marching on! * The origin of this senseless farrago as senseless as the equally popular " Lillibulero" of the times of the great civil commotion in England - is, I believe, quite unknown. But sung to a degraded and jiggish form of a grand and simple old air, it was a great favorite in the early part of the war. It was heard everywhere in the streets; regiments marched to it, and the air had its place in the programme of every barrel-organ grinder. In fact no song was sung so much during the rebellion. Its popularity was doubtless due to its presentation of a single idea, and in great measure to the very marked rhythm of the air to which it was adapted, or rather, which had been adapted to it. His pet lambs will meet him on the way; His pet lambs will meet him on the way; His pet lambs will meet him on the way; As they go marching on! CHORUS. Glory, halle - hallelujah! Glory, halle- hallelujah! Glory, halle hallelujah! As they go marching on ! They will hang Jeff. Davis to a tree! They will hang Jeff. Davis to a tree! They will hang Jeff. Davis to a tree! As they march along ! CHORUS. Glory, halle- hallelujah! Glory, halle - hallelujah! Glory, halle - hallelujah! As they march along ! Now, three rousing cheers for the Union! Now, three rousing cheers for the Union! Now, three rousing cheers for the Union! As we are marching on! CHORUS. Glory, halle - hallelujah! Glory, halle Glory, halle - hallelujah! - hallelujah! Hip, hip, hip, hip, Hurrah! BATTLE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. BY MRS. JULIA WARD HOWE. MINE eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I have 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 sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat: Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet ! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was borne 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. THE NATION'S HYMN. THE NATION'S HYMN. Our past is bright and grand Yes, the Starry Flag alone, We are sprung from noble sires, We are rich, and wise, and strong. The gifts of every clime, Brothers then, in Union, strong, We are brothers; and we know 69 Thirty millions of the free Brothers then, in Union, strong, See our prairies, sky-surrounded! Such a land, and such alone, Yes, the spirit of our land, The young giant of the West, Yes, Columbia, great and strong, To fulfil the hopes of man! |