John Brown's body

John Brown's Body, à l'origine John Brown's song, est une marche composée en l'honneur de l'abolitionniste John Brown. Elle a été populaire dans l'Union lors de la guerre de Sécession. Il est généralement admis qu'elle aurait été composée par un groupe de soldats de l'Union sur l'air d'une chanson populaire de la fin du 18e siècle ou du début du 19e.

 

John brown

Selon George Kimball, auteur du livre Origin of the John Brown Song paru en 1890, elle a une « saveur rude, possiblement irrévérencieuse » (flavor of coarseness, possibly of irreverence), qui troubla les gens de l'époque. Plusieurs variantes du texte sont composées dans le but de la rendre plus acceptable, plus littéraire. The Battle Hymn of the Republic est la variante la mieux connue ; Julia Ward Howe l'a écrite à la suggestion d'un ami, qui, toujours selon Kimball, n'aurait été autre que le président américain Abraham Lincoln, mais cette opinion est sujette à  caution.
 
 
 
John Brown's body lies a-moldering in the grave
John Brown's body lies a-moldering in the grave
John Brown's body lies a-moldering in the grave
But his soul goes marching on
 
The stars above in Heaven are looking kindly down
The stars above in Heaven are looking kindly down
The stars above in Heaven are looking kindly down
On the grave of old John Brown

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah
His soul goes marching on

He captured Harper's Ferry with his nineteen men so true
He frightened old Virginia till she trembled through and through
They hung him for a traitor, they themselves the traitor crew
But his soul goes marching on

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah
His soul goes marching on
 
___________________
 
Battle Hymn of the Republic
 
 

 

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.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
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 can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.

I have read His fiery gospel writ in rows of burnished 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 born 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.

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