Some of you may be familiar with the 1914 poem by Vachel Lindsay, "Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight (in Springfield, Ill.). Lindsay was the famous "singing poet," who recited his poetry in a sing-songy manner. There are old recordings of Lindsay reading his poems, but I am not aware of an audio recording of this famous Lincoln poem.
It occurred to me that it would be interesting to have a "John Brown Walks at Midnight (in North Elba, N.Y.). However, since I'm not a poet, I decided to let ChatGPT to use its AI abilities to prepare a poem inspired by the Lindsay poem. I think it has done very well.
I also asked ChatGPT to provide an image to illustrate the poem, included here as well.
What do you think?
John Brown Walks at Midnight at North Elba, N.Y.
When the moon lies pale on the Adirondack snow,
And the dark hills hold their breath,
John Brown walks again.
He walks where frost grips the pine-roots tight,
Where the stars lean low to listen,
Where silence is a stern old judge.
His boots know the path by heart.
They remember chains.
They remember prayers spoken through clenched teeth.
They remember a nation arguing with its own soul.
O John Brown, old thunder of righteousness,
Your beard is white with mountain wind,
Your eyes are lit with an unburied fire.
You pace, you pause, you lift your head
As if counting the sins of the Republic
Like slow tolling bells.
The cabins sleep.
The farm tools sleep.
But John Brown does not sleep.
He asks the night:
Have they learned yet?
He asks the stars:
Is justice still postponed?
He walks past fields where free soil was sworn,
Where Black men worked with hope as sharp as axes,
Where freedom was not a slogan
But a daily labor, hard and holy.
O restless walker,
You who would not bargain with bondage,
You who mistook mercy for weakness
And patience for complicity—
Your shadow still stretches across the snow
Toward Harpers Ferry,
Toward every courthouse that trims the law
To fit the powerful.
The moon follows you, uncertain.
The hills stand like jurors.
History, half-asleep, turns in its bed.
And still you walk, John Brown,
Not to kill, but to accuse.
Not to conquer, but to remind.
For somewhere a nation murmurs excuses,
And somewhere chains learn new disguises.
So walk on, stern ghost of unfinished freedom,
Walk till the sleepers wake,
Till the midnight learns the sound
Of justice keeping time with your stride.
by ChatGPT, prompted by Louis A. DeCaro, Jr.
January 9, 2026
