OH, young LоCHINVAR is come out of the west, He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone, So boldly he enter'd the Netherby hall, Among bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom spoke nevera word) "O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord LOCHINVAR ?" "I long "I long wooed 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, 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, So stately his form, and so lovely her face, And the bride-maidens whisper'd, "'T were better by far To have match'd our fair cousin with young LOCH INVAR." One One touch to her hand, and one word in her car, When they reach'd the hall door, and the charger stood near; 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 Græmes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, LOCHIN WALTER SCOTT. *This excellent specimen of the narrative ballad in its gay and sprightly form, is by the writer, in his fine poem of "Marmion," represented as sung by the fascinating Lady Ford before the king of Scotland. DESPAIRING DESPAIRING beside a clear stream, The wind that blew over the plain To his sighs with a sigh did reply, And the brook in return to his pain Ran mournfully murmuring by. "Alas! silly swain that I was!" Thus sadly complaining he cried; "When first I beheld that fair face, 'T were better by far I had died. She talk'd, and I bless'd the dear tongue, When she smiled 'twas a pleasure too great; I listen'd, and cried, when she sung, "How foolish was I to believe She would dote on so lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forsake the fine folks of the town! Το To think that a beauty so gay, So kind and so constant would prove, To go clad like our maidens in gray, And live in a cottage on love! "What tho' I have skill to complain, Tho' the Muses my temples have crown'd? What tho', when they hear my soft strain, The virgins sit weeping around? Ah, COLIN, thy hopes are in vain, Thy pipe and thy laurel resign, Thy fair one inclines to a swain Whose music is sweeter than thine. "And you, my companions so dear, Who sorrow to see me betray'd, Whatever I suffer, forbear, Forbear to accuse the false maid: Tho' thro' the wide world we should range, 'Tis in vain from our fortune to fly; 'T was hers to be false, and to change, 'Tis mine to be constant, and die. "If while my hard fate I sustain, In her breast any pity is found, And see me laid low in the ground: The |