Two-edged and flaming, waved back to a host
Of mighty shadows gathering on its path,
Soon to emerge as soldiers, when the ghost
Of John Brown should the lines of battle form.
When John Brown crossed the Nation’s Rubicon,
Him Freedom followed in the battle-storm,
And John Brown’s soul in song went marching on.
Though John Brown’s body lay beneath the sod,
His soul released the winds and loosed the flood:
The Nation wrought his will as hest of God,