What lofty pennons flaunt? What mighty echoes haunt, As of great guns, o'er the main? Hark to the sound again! The Congress is all-ataunt! The Cumberland's manned again! All the ships and their men Are in line of battle to-day,-- All at quarters, as when Their last roll thundered away,-- All at their guns, as then, For the Fleet salutes to-day. The armies, have broken camp On the vast and sunny plain, The drums are rolling again; With steady, measured tramp, They're marching all again. With alignment firm and solemn, Once again they form In mighty square and column,-- But never for charge and storm. The Old Flag they died under Floats above them on the shore, And on the great ships yonder The ensigns dip once more,-- And once again the thunder Of the thirty guns and four! In solid platoons of steel, Under heaven's triumphal arch, The long lines break and wheel; And the word is, "Forward, march!" The colors ripple o'erhead, The drums roll up to the sky, And with martial time and tread The regiments all pass by,-- The ranks of our faithful Dead, Meeting their President's eye. With a soldier's quiet pride They smile o'er the perished pain, For their anguish was not vain,-- For thee, O Father, we died! And we did not die in vain. March on, your last brave mile! Salute him, Star and Lace, Form round him, rank and file, And look on the kind, rough face; But the quaint and homely smile Has a glory and a grace It never had known erewhile,-- Never, in time and space. Close round him, hearts of pride! Press near him, side by side,-- Our Father is not alone! For the Holy Right ye died, And Christ, the Crucified, Waits to welcome his own. FOOTNOTES: [D] "His temperament was cheerful. At table, the pleasures of which in moderation were his only relaxation, he was always animated and merry; and this jocoseness was partly natural, partly intentional. In the darkest hours of his country's trial, he affected a serenity he was far from feeling; so that his apparent gayety at momentous epochs was even censured by dullards, who could not comprehend its philosophy, nor applaud the flippancy of William the Silent. He went through life bearing the load of a people's sorrows with a smiling face."--Motley's _Rise of the Dutch Republic_. Perhaps a lively national sense of humor is one of the surest exponents of advanced civilization. Certainly a grim sullenness and fierceness have been the leading traits of the Rebellion for Slavery; while Freedom, like a Brave at the stake, has gone through her long agony with a smile and a jest ever on her lips. REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES. _Letters to Various Persons_, By HENRY D. THOREAU. Boston: Ticknor & Fields.