Thursday, January 11, 2007
Chapter 25
As noted in a previous post, the title of this novel is from the song, "Battle Hymn of the Republic." For this chapter, look up the lyrics to this song and write your own verse. Be sure to follow the same rhyme and meter pattern of the original version. Make sure your verse clearly ties to the novel Grapes of Wrath. Look on my webpage for a sample from a past AP student.
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Californians seen the coming of a million hungry folks.
They had called for all these people but the handbills were a hoax.
but these people are so sad they can barely laugh at jokes
His truth is marching on
The people travled miles and miles by foot and car and truck.
To see the "promised land" of California.
The sorrow of the truth is just too much to bear.
Too many people not enough jobs for all...
HIS day is marching on.
Glory Glory Hallelujah.
Glory Glory Hallelujah.
Glory Glory Hallelujah.
HIS truth is marching on.
Victims of disaster, they are worn from tragedy.
They travel to the West to make a living off the sea.
But when they finally get there, it's not all its cracked up to be.
His truth is marching on.
Mine eyes have seen the evil of the human being race,
It is trampling out the hopes and dreams of others in their place.
Poverty and injustice have infected us to our base
Is His truth still marching on?
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
Is His truth still marching on?
Mine eyes have seen the lies that they are telling all the people,
They are making our life horrid who are roaming door to door,
They lie, they cheat, they even cut pay which we cant hoard,
The reccession is marching on,
The idea of new beginnings were always on their mind.
They packed up their lives and moved out west to see what they could find.
Hoovervilles, and poverty became part of the daily grind.
His truth is marching on.
I have seen the people and their unending plight;
They have tried to escape the fight;
I have seen the fire of revolution ignite;
The people are marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! The people are marching on.
Struggles all around them cause a look for hope to come
They travel miles and miles, which others feel is dumb
It is time for something new so they stop living life like bums
His truth is marching on
The trudging of the weak and poor is wrought with heady pain.
The future, past, and present growth concealed by lack of grain.
And pages of our histry books now bears the bloody stain.
But God goes marching on.
He has concealed our dreams behind billows of muck
Traveling 66 we did as we must; pursuing just a morsel of luck;
Reaching our destination, all was worse
He has made us all question if each ordeal is purely a curse;
Through it all, our hope marches on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Our dreams will come; hard but true,
In the end it will be worth, although long overdue.
Our eyes rummaging around, hope in store.
It is all in His plan, rich comes after poor;
Our hope marches on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
I have heard the wonders of the glory of the West.
I am told of jobs with wages that are always the best.
Grapes for you and me, and oranges for the rest.
I hope it's not a lie.
Glory, glory California
Glory, glory California
Glory, glory California
I hope it's not a lie.
Optimistic people loaded up their truck;
They think they'll find prosperity and overestimate their luck;
Cause there in California, it's hard to earn a buck;
Is hope still marching on?
There are farmers with no food and horses with no hay.
The hungry and the destitute picked up and moved away.
Looking for a better life many have found the Frisco Bay.
And we are marching on.
Gather up the family and load them in a car.
Point the compass West and drive really far.
We expect the "promised land" but life out there is just sub-par.
His truth is marching on
The dust flew up and they all leave.
The sadness they feel makes them all grieve.
The land they go to is not what they perceive.
His truth is marching on.
To the sunshine state they go-o marching on and on and on
They march with desperation miles and miles from the dawn
If only they could find hope in their dust enshrouded lawns
Their hope is by far gone.
Mine eyes have seen the truth of the American workingman
He is picking all the fruit, because this is everything he can
He hath stored the anger deep inside the body called a man
The change is soon to come.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! The change is soon to come.
We loaded up our wagons, threw Ma and Pa in too. (1)
We kissed the dust good-bye and drove to begin anew. (2)
We see the hope of California and strive to see our dreams come true.
Our hope is marching on!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Our hope is marching on!
As i travel to the "Promised Land" I keep my head up high;
My hopes were to see a fruitful life in the end;
Although the hardships have barely settled in...
His truth is marching on
Their eyes saw the glory of the gorgeous Baja plains.
Their jalopies were so trashy, but their hearts were pure as pearl.
Their jalopies march right on.
Thy men are worn and weary, but stay strong for thy families.
They have seen the worst of their old lives, and escape the tragedies.
Their women now, feel stronger too and embrace new lives at ease.
Their strength continues on.
We came a'marching in only desperate for a job
But our money you had to steal and our hopes you still must rob
Now we have nothing left but unhappiness and our children are left to sob
Can we ever march again?
These here okies with their sad hearts have come miles,
to find work and feed their young,
through all the rough they stay alive,
but with all the bad things happening its hard to stay alive
Their days keep marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Their days keep marching on.
We move and wander constantly with hopes of food to eat;
We work sparingly for little pay with e'er mouths to feed;
Cops and owners spend 'er days fighting us with e'er more to fear;
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