Hurrah, how they drive them! hurrah, how they drive the fierce rebels along! One more cheer, still another! each lip seems as ready to burst into song. On, on, ye bold blue-coated heroes! thrust, strike, pour your shots in amain! Banners fly, columns rush, seen and lost in the quick, fitful gauzes of rain. Oh, boys, how your young blood is streaming! but falter not, drive them to rout! From barricade, breastwork, and riflepit, how the scourged rebels pour out! We see the swift plunge of the caisson within the dim background of haze, With the shreds of platoons inward scudding, and fainter their batteries blaze; As the mist curtain falls all is blank; as it lifts, a wild picture out glares, A wild shifting picture of battle, and dread our warm hopefulness shares; But never the braves of the 'White Star' have sullied their fame in defeat, And they will not to-day see the triumph pass by them the foeman to greet! No, no, for the battle is ending; the ranks on the slope of the crest Are the true Union blue, and our banners alone catch the gleams of the west, Though the Crossbar still flies from the summit, we roll out our cheering of pride! Not in vain, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! have ye died! One brief struggle more sees the banner, that blot on the sky, brushed away, When the broad moon now basking upon us shall yield her rich lustre to-day: She brings out the black hulk of Lookout, its outlines traced sharp in the skies, All alive with the camps of our braves glancing down with their numberless eyes. See, the darkness below the red dottings is twinkling with many a spark! Sergeant Teague thinks them souls of the rebels red fleeing from ours in the dark; But the light shocks of sound tell the tale, they are battle's fierce fireworks at play! It is slaughter's wild carnival revel bequeathed to the night by the day. Dawn breaks, the sky clears--ha! the shape upon Lookout's tall crest that we see, Is the bright beaming flag of the 'White Star,' the beautiful Flag of the Free! How it waves its rich folds in the zenith, and looks in the dawn's open eye, With its starred breast of pearl and of crimson, as if with heaven's colors to vie! 'Hurrah!' rolls from Moccasin Point, and 'Hurrah!' from bold Cameron's Hill! 'Hurrah!' peals from glad Chattanooga! bliss seems every bosom to fill! Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! during Time Shall stand this, your column of glory, shall shine this, your triumph sublime! To the deep mountain den of the panther the hunter climbed, drove him to bay, Then fought the fierce foe till he turned and fled, bleeding and gnashing, away! Fled away from the scene where so late broke his growls and he shot down his glare, As he paced to and fro, for the hunter his wild craggy cavern to dare!