Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west;
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;And, save his good broad-sword, he weapon had none;He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone; He swam the Esk River where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,The bride had consented-the gallant came late; For a laggard in love and a dastard in warWas to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
So boldly he entered the Netherby hall,
"Mong bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: Then spake the bride"s father, his hand on his sword (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), "Ho! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar? ""I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar. "The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up; He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush,and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar;"Now tread we a measure! " said young Lochinvar.
So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, And the bride-maidens whispered, " "Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,When they reached the hall door, and the charger stoodnear;
So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,So light to the saddle, before her, he sprung!
"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur !
They"ll have fleet steeds that follow ! " quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting "mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran; There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea,But the lost bride of Netherby ne"er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,Have ye e"er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Sir Walter Scott.
Drawings by Jean Moreton
General.-Here is romance, a Border tale of love and action, graphically thrown on the picture-screen of the mind of the reader. Stanza one gives a close-up view of the hero. Follows a picture of a castle near the Esk (see atlas), then the ball-room, the suspicious father, the dance, the flight, the pursuit, the triumphant escape. How stirringly the story moves, with the long galloping lines! The ballad is from Scott"s "Marmion, " and is supposed to be sung by Lady Heron, a gay English dame, to charm King James IV. of Scotland and keep him from heading his troops at Flodden. Look for the Solway, that estuary where the high tides rush in with force. Call Forster foster, and Fenwick fennick. For composition exercise, let the bride tell the story, let the father tell it, " the laggard in love, " Lochinvar himself. A "galliard " is a gay, sprightly fellow. The puzzle is, when fair Ellen was sitting at the croup of the saddle, how could the agile Lochinvar spring lightly before her? Let horsemen answer.