Up among the Granite mountains, By the Bay State strand, Hark! the paean cry is sounding Through all Yankee land. 'Wave the stars and stripes high o'er us, Let every freeman sing, In a loud and joyful chorus: Brave young Corn is King! Join, join, for God and freedom! Sing, Northmen, sing: Old King Cotton's dead and buried: brave young Corn is King.' Southward rolls the cry of gladness, On past Washington; Where the bond-slave stoops no longer, But stands up, a Man! O'er battle-fields of 'Ole Virginny,' Floats the black man's song: 'Brudders, God is takin' vengeance For de darky's wrong! Shout, shout, for God and Freedom! Sing, darkies, sing! Ole Massa Cotton's dead foreber: Young Massa Corn am King!' Through the Mississippi valley, Down the river's tide, Hosts of patriots rush to rally On their Country's side; And across the green savannahs Of the Southern clime, Armies, under Union banners, To this song keep time: 'March, march, for God and Freedom! Sing, soldiers, sing! Pallid Cotton's dead and buried: Yellow Corn is King!' Let the tidings swell o'er ocean To another shore, Till proud England pales and trembles Where she scoffed before! Ne'er again shall serpent-friendship Rise to hiss and sting! Cotton leagues no more with _Traitors_: Honest Corn is King! _Jubilate_! God and Freedom! Sing, Americans, sing Tyrant Cotton's dead forever! Honest Corn is King! LITERARY NOTICES. AMONG THE PINES. BY EDMUND KIRKE. New-York: J. R. Gilmore, 532 Broadway. 1862. Perhaps it is not altogether in rule to say much of a work which has appeared in our pages. But we may at least call attention to what others have said. And good authority--plenty of it, such authority as should make a reputation for any book--has declared _The Pines_ to be in truth a work of the highest merit and of a new order. It is a perfectly truthful record of scenes and characters drawn from personal experience in the South; combining the accuracy of Olmstead's works with the thrilling interest of _Uncle Tom_. It should be fairly stated--as the author desires it should be--that every thing did not occur precisely in the order in which it is here narrated. But all is _true_--every page speaks for itself in this particular. No stronger piece of local coloring ever issued from the American press. We seem, in reading it, to live in the South--to know the people who come before us. All of them are, indeed, life-portraits. In one or two instances, the very names of the originals remain unchanged.