Hanging from the beam,
Slowly swaying ( such the law ),
Gaunt the shadow on your green,
Shenandoah!
The cut is on the crown
( Lo, John Brown ),
And the stabs shall heal no more.
Hidden in the cap
Is the anguish none can draw;
So your future veils its face,
Shenandoah!
But the streaming beard is shown
( Weird John Brown ),
The meteor of the the war.