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“John Brown’s body lies a-moldering in the grave...”

-Traditional

“Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord...”

-Traditional

“Solidarity forever...”

-Traditional

“John Brown’s baby had a cold upon its chest...”

-Traditional

“...and they rubbed it with camphorated oil.” How in the hell did a song about an abolitionist morph into a nursery ditty about an afflicted kid (and by intermediary turns, the respective anthems of U.S. Christian nationalism and organized labor)? One tune, a pocketful of ideological positions. Pick your poison.

(And who is the ‘they’ that rubbed that baby?)