ch the war has brought forth, we must
class that grim Puritanical lyric, 'The Kansas John Brown,' which
appeared originally in the Kansas _Herald_, and which is, as we are
informed, extensively sung in the army. The words are as follows:

THE KANSAS JOHN BROWN SONG.

Old John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
While the bondmen all are weeping whom he ventured for to save;
But though he lost his life a-fighting for the slave,
His soul is marching on.
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
His soul is marching on.

John Brown was a hero undaunted, true and brave,
And Kansas knew his valor when he fought her rights to save;
And now, though the grass grows green above his grave,
His soul is marching on.

He captured Harper's Ferry with his nineteen men so few,
And frightened Old Virginia till she trembled through and through;
They hung him for a traitor--themselves a traitor crew,
But his soul is marching on.

John Brown was John the Baptist of the Christ we are to see;
CHRIST, who of the bondmen shall the Liberator be;
And soon through all the South the slaves shall all be free,
For his soul goes marching on.

John Brown he was a soldier--a soldier of the LORD;
John Brown he was a martyr--a martyr to the WORD;
And he made the gallows holy when he perished by the cord,
For his soul goes marching on.

The battle that John Brown begun, he looks from heaven to view,
On the army of the Union with its flag, red, white and blue;
_And the angels shall sing hymns o'er the deeds we mean to do_,
_As we go marching on!_

Ye soldiers of JESUS, then strike it while you may,
The death-blow of Oppression in a better time and way,
For the dawn of Old John Brown is a-brightening into day,
And his soul is marching on.
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, glory, Hallelujah!
His soul is marching on.

There! if the soldiers of Cromwell and of Ireton had any lyric to beat
_that_, we should like to see it. Among its rough and rude rhymes gleams
out a fierce fire which we supposed was long since extinct. Verily, old
Father Puritan is _not_ dead yet, neither does he sleep; and to judge from
what we have heard of the effects of this song among the soldiers, we
should say that grim Old John