A scene of early days of Anglo-foreign strife rose before me like a wraith of second sight. The tramp of sea-bound red coats, fifes and drums, the woe-mongering cries of parting wives. I saw two lovers on the Staball hill, heard their vows.

A rhyming fever tingled to my fingers' ends, my only manuscript medium to hand, the stump of a lead pencil, and blank margin of the morning paper. Upon that virgin border I jotted the sketch of the following founded on fact ballad. The reader will perceive in it a beautiful inverse lesson of the mutual commotion of two loving hearts.

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And many a gallant soldier, was bound unto the war,

And one upon the Staball hill, his sweetheart by his side

Swore many a rounded warlike oath, that she should be his bride.

"O Maggie!" cried the Corporal, "There's war across the sea,

And when I'm parted from thee, I would you'd pray for me,

And I will tell you what you'll do, when I am far away,