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Vachel Lindsay - John BrownVachel Lindsay - John Brown
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(To be sung by a leader and chorus, the leader singing the body of the poem, while the chorus interrupts with the question.) I’ve been to Palestine.   WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE? I saw the ark of Noah— It was made of pitch and pine. I saw old Father Noah Asleep beneath his vine. I saw Shem, Ham and Japhet Standing in a line. I saw the tower of Babel In the gorgeous sunrise shine— By a weeping willow tree Beside the Dead Sea. I’ve been to Palestine.   WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE? I saw abominations And Gadarene swine. I saw the sinful Canaanites Upon the shewbread dine, And spoil the temple vessels And drink the temple wine. I saw Lot’s wife, a pillar of salt Standing in the brine— By a weeping willow tree Beside the Dead Sea. I’ve been to Palestine.   WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE? Cedars on Mount Lebanon, Gold in Ophir’s mine, And a wicked generation Seeking for a sign And Baal’s howling worshippers Their god with leaves entwine. And . . . I saw the war-horse ramping And shake his forelock fine— By a weeping willow tree Beside the Dead Sea. I’ve been to Palestine.   WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE? Old John Brown. Old John Brown. I saw his gracious wife Dressed in a homespun gown. I saw his seven sons Before his feet bow down. And he marched with his seven sons, His wagons and goods and guns, To his campfire by the sea, By the waves of Galilee. I’ve been to Palestine.   WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE? I saw the harp and psalt’ry Played for Old John Brown. I heard the ram’s horn blow, Blow for Old John Brown. I saw the Bulls of Bashan— They cheered for Old John Brown. I saw the big Behemoth— He cheered for Old John Brown. I saw the big Leviathan— He cheered for Old John Brown. I saw the Angel Gabriel Great power to him assign. I saw him fight the Canaanites And set God’s Israel free. I saw him when the war was done In his rustic chair recline— By his campfire by the sea, By the waves of Galilee. I’ve been to Palestine.   WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE? Old John Brown. Old John Brown. And there he sits To judge the world. His hunting-dogs At his feet are curled. His eyes half-closed, But John Brown sees The ends of the earth, The Day of Doom. And his shot-gun lies Across his knees— Old John Brown, Old John Brown.
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