LOCHINVAR.

LADY HERON'S SONG.

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 weapons had none;
He rode all unarmed,1 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 Esk3 river where ford there was none;
But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

The bride had consented, the gallant came late :
For a laggard 5 in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he entered the Netherby hall,

Among 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),
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 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 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.

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,
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 charger2 stood

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
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 ? 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
Young Edmund in the stream,
No human ear but William's heard
Young Edmund's drowning scream.

Submissive, all the vassals1 owned
The murderer for their lord;
And he, the rightful heir, possessed
The house of Erlingford.

The ancient house of Erlingford
Stood in a fair domain,2
And Severn's3 ample waters near
Rolled through the fertile plain.

And often the wayfaring man
Would love to linger there,
Forgetful of his onward road,
To gaze on scenes so fair.

But never could Lord William dare
To gaze on Severn's stream;
In every wind that swept its waves
He heard young Edmund scream,

In vain at midnight's silent hour
Sleep closed the murderer's eyes;
In every dream the murderer saw
Young Edmund's form arise.

In vain, by restless conscience driven,
Lord William left his home,

Far from the scenes that saw his guilt,
In pilgrimage to roam.

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,
But could not fly despair;

He sought his home again, but peace
Was still a stranger there.

Each hour was tedious long, yet swift
The months appeared to roll;
And now the day returned that shook
With terror William's soul.

A day that William never felt
Return without dismay,

For well had conscience kalendered 1
Young Edmund's dying day.

A fearful day was that! The rains
Fell fast, with tempest roar,

And the swoln tide of Severn spread
Far on the level shore.

In vain Lord William sought the feast,
In vain he quaffed 2 the bowl,
And strove with noisy mirth to drown
The anguish of his soul.

The tempest, as its sudden swell
In gusty howlings came,

With cold and death-like feelings seemed
To thrill his shuddering frame.

Reluctant now as night came on
His lonely couch he prest,
And wearied out, he sank to sleep,
To sleep-but not to rest.

Beside that couch, his brother's form,
Lord Edmund, seemed to stand;
Such and so pale as when in death
He grasped his brother's hand;

Such and so pale his face as when,
With faint and faltering tongue,

1 Kalendered, set down in the year's register. 2 Quaffed, drank in large draughts.

To William's care, a dying charge,
He left his orphan son.

"I bade thee with a father's love
My orphan Edmund guard-

Well, William, hast thou kept thy charge!
Now take thy due reward."

He started up, each limb convulsed
With agonizing fear,

He only heard the storm of night,—

'Twas music to his ear.

When, lo! the voice of loud alarm
His inmost soul appals :

"What ho! Lord William, rise in haste!
The water saps thy walls!"

He rose in haste; beneath the walls
He saw the flood appear.

It hemmed him round. 'Twas midnight now,
No human aid was near.

He heard the shout of joy; for now

A boat approached the wall,

And eager to the welcome aid
They crowd for safety all.

"My boat is small," the boatman cried,
"Twill bear but one away:
Come in, Lord William, and do ye
In God's protection stay."

Strange feeling filled them at his voice

Even in that hour of woe,

That, save their lord, there was not one
Who wished with him to go.

But William leapt into the boat,

His terror was so sore;

"Thou shalt have half my gold," he cried, "Haste, haste to yonder shore."