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READ last night of the Grand Review

In Washington's chiefest avenue—

Two Hundred Thousand men in blue

I think they said was the number—

Till I seemed to hear their trampling feet,

The bugle blast and the drum's quick beat,

The clatter of hoofs in the stony street,

The cheers of people who came to greet,

And the thousand details that to repeat

Would only my verse encumber—

Till I fell in a reverie, sad and sweet,

And then to a fitful slumber.