Lochinvar

O young Lochinvar is come out of the west
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none
He rode all unarm’d, and he rode all alone
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar

He staid not for brake, and he stopp’d not for stone
He swam the Eske river and 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 war
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar

So boldly he enter’d the Netherby Hall
Among bride’s-men, and kinsmen, and brothers and all:
“O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?”

“I long woo’d your daughter, my suit you denied;—
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide—
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine
To lead but one measure, to 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 kiss’d the goblet: the knight took it up
He quaff’d off the wine, and he threw down the cup
She look’d down to blush, and she look’d 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 whisper’d, “’Twere better by far
To have match’d our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.”

So light to the croupe 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 Lord 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 Lee
But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war
Have ye ever heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?