Modern reciter/Lochinvar

by Walter Scott

For other versions of this work, see Lochinvar.

———

Lochinvar.

(illegible text), 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 unarm'd, and he rode all alone!
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was night like the young Lochinvar

He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not ⟨for⟩ stone,
He swam the Eske 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 war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar!

So boldy he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
'Mong bride's men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all!—
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword—
For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word—
'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 am I come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine!
There be 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.
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!'

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near,
O light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
O 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;
(illegible text)sters, 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!

Scott.