LOCHINVAR. LADY HERON'S SONG. Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 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, The bride had consented, the gallant came late : So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, Among bride's-men and kinsmen, and brothers and all; 1 Unarmed, i.e., without breast-plate, etc. 2 Brake, a place covered with brambles. 3 Esk, a river in Dumfriesshire. 4 Netherby, a place in Dumfriesshire. 5 Laggard, a sluggish or slow person. 6 Solway, a firth or large inlet between England and Scotland. 7 One measure, one dance. 8 Quaffed, drank. So stately his form, and so lovely her face, While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, near; So light to the croupe 3 the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 66 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 Lea, 5 So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? Marmion, Canto v. ROBERT SOUTHEY. 1774-1843. BORN in Bristol, where his father was a linendraper, and educated at Westminster and Balliol College, Oxford. After quitting Oxford, he associated much with Coleridge and a young Bristol quaker, named Lovell, and the three young men married three sisters. In their enthusiasm, Southey, Coleridge, and Lovell had formed a plan to go out together to the wilds of North America, and set up what they called a Pantisocrasy, in which they were to return to the patriarchal mode of life. This scheme, however, they never attempted to carry into effect. In the early part of the present century Southey settled at Greta, near Keswick, where he continued to reside till his death. In 1813 was appointed poet laureate, and in 1835 a pension of 300 a year was bestowed upon him by the Government of Sir Robert Peel. Died in 1843, and was buried in 1 Galliard, a brisk, gay man. 3 Croup, behind the saddle. 2 Charger, a warrior's horse. 4 Scaur, a steep bank of a river. 3 Cannobie Lea, a district in the valley of the river Esk. Crosthwaite churchyard, where had been already interred his first wife and some of his children. Southey's chief poetical works are,— Thalaba the Destroyer; The Curse of Kehama; Joan of Arc; The Vision of Judgment, and numerous ballads and minor pieces. LORD WILLIAM. No eye beheld when William plunged Submissive, all the vassals1 owned The ancient house of Erlingford And often the wayfaring man But never could Lord William dare In vain at midnight's silent hour In vain, by restless conscience driven, Far from the scenes that saw his guilt, 1 Vassals, servants. 2 Domain, the estate or land lying about a country mansion. 3 Severn, the longest river in England. It rises in Plinlimmon and falls into the Bristol Channel. To other climes the pilgrim fled, He sought his home again, but peace Each hour was tedious long, yet swift A day that William never felt For well had conscience kalendered 1 A fearful day was that! The rains And the swoln tide of Severn spread In vain Lord William sought the feast, The tempest, as its sudden swell With cold and death-like feelings seemed Reluctant now as night came on Beside that couch, his brother's form, Such and so pale his face as when, 1 Kalendered, set down in the year's register. 2 Quaffed, drank in large draughts. To William's care, a dying charge, "I bade thee with a father's love Well, William, hast thou kept thy charge! He started up, each limb convulsed He only heard the storm of night,— 'Twas music to his ear. When, lo! the voice of loud alarm "What ho! Lord William, rise in haste! He rose in haste; beneath the walls It hemmed him round. 'Twas midnight now, He heard the shout of joy; for now A boat approached the wall, And eager to the welcome aid "My boat is small," the boatman cried, Strange feeling filled them at his voice Even in that hour of woe, That, save their lord, there was not one But William leapt into the boat, His terror was so sore; "Thou shalt have half my gold," he cried, "Haste, haste to yonder shore." |