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Updated: June 28, 2025
Lige and those with him paused, and the whole body came to a halt while the leaders consulted. There was a sound of metallic clicking and a thin rattle of steel. From far to the rear came the voice of old Wilkerson: "John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the ground, John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the ground "
No outcry about violated law can cover up the essential enormity of a deed like this." Never was a man dealt with more generously by posthumous fame. In the Civil War, two lines of verse, fitted to a stirring melody, became the marching song of the Union armies: John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave His soul is marching on!
Whistling joyfully, like a schoolboy, he strode down the rickety stairs to order a meal of Madame Boncour. It was with a strange start that he noticed that the tune he was whistling was: "John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, But his soul goes marching on." The lindens were in bloom.
In spite of himself, the tune of "John Brown's Body" had crept in among his ideas. Andrews sat with a pencil at his lips, whistling softly, while in the back of his mind a vast chorus seemed singing: "John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, But his soul goes marching on. Glory, glory, hallelujah! But his soul goes marching on."
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