And soon throughout the sunny South the slaves shall all be free,
For his soul is marching on, &c.
The conflict that he heralded, he looks from heaven to view,
On the army of the Union, with its flag, red, white, and blue;
And heaven shall ring with anthems o’er the deed they mean to do,
For his soul is marching on, &c.
Ye soldiers of freedom then strike, while strike ye may,
The death-blow of oppression in a better time and way;
For the dawn of old John Brown has brightened into day,
And his soul is marching on.