14 'Twas vain:-the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing:

The waters wild went o'er his child,

And he was left lamenting.

I 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.

2 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.

3 So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,

4

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,)
"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 are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.”

5 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.

6 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."

7 One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near;

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, oyer bank, bush, and scaur;

They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.

8 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,

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?

WALTER SCOTT.

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS

I KING FRANCIS was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court;
The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride,
And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom
he sighed:

And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show, Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

2 Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws; They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;

With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,

Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;

The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the

air;

Said Francis then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."

3 De Lorge's love o'erheard the King, a beauteous lively dame, With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed

the same;

She thought, the Count my lover is brave as brave can be; He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me; King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;

I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine.

4 She dropped her glove, to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;

He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild;

The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained his

place,

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.

"By Heaven," said Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat;

"No love," quoth he, “but vanity, sets love a task like that." LEIGH HUNT.

THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN

I THE laird o' Cockpen, he's proud an' he's great,
His mind is ta'en up wi' things o' the State;
He wanted a wife his braw house to keep,
But favor wi' wooin' was fashous to seek.

2 Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table head he thought she'd look well,
M'Clish's ae daughter o' Claverse-ha' Lee,
A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.

3

His wig was weel pouther'd, and as gude as new,

His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;

He put on a ring, a sword and cock'd hat,
And wha could refuse the laird wi' a' that?

4 He took the grey mare, and rade cannily,
An' rapped at the yett o' Claverse-ha' Lee;
"Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,-
She's wanted to speak to the laird o' Cockpen.”

5 Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine.
"An' what brings the laird at sic a like time?"
She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown,
Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down.

6 An' when she cam' ben she bowed fu' low,

An' what was his errand he soon let her know;
Amazed was the laird when the lady said "Na,"
And wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'.

7 Dumfounder'd was he, nae sigh did he gie,
He mounted his mare-he rade cannily;

An' aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
"She's daft to refuse the laird o' Cockpen."

CAROLINA, LADY NAIRNE.

THE COURTIN' 1

I GOD made sech nights, all white an' still
Fur 'z you can look or listen,
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,
All silence an' all glisten.

2 Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown

An' peeked in thru' the winder,

An' there sot Huldy all alone,

'ith no one nigh to hender.

1 From Complete Writings, copyright, 1904, by Houghton Mifflin Com pany. Reprinted by permission.