[125] Lochinvar

Guest poem sent in by Pavithra Krishnan <pavikaye@>

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.

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 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,)
"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."

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.

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;
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, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Grfmes 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?

	-- Sir Walter Scott

This is an old favorite that I remember from school. A narrative poem in the
grand old style. There's a flippancy to the brisk rhyme scheme, a careless
kind of ease to the story-telling that immediately delight. As for the
debonair Lochinvar himself- one would be hard put to find his Literary equal
in sheer dash and 'Knight in Shining Armour'-type gallantry. Here's a hero
with Attitude.

Scott always did know how to tell a story.

Pavithra

From: Bruce Eatinger <gunnett@>


How delightful to find this old poem on the web!  I've been trying to locate
it lately.   What a romatic spirit he must have been.  I love the name!

From: "Sanjay Kumar" <sanjayk@>

thanks so much for putting this on the Web. I was desperately trying to
locate it, it was my favorite poem in school. I rememebr reading it in
Class 6.

sanjayk@

From: "Krickett M Robbins" <Robbinsx@>

I memorized this poem in the eighth grade and have been trying to find a
copy for many years now.  Thank you so much for ending my long search!

From: "Joan Palmer" <joan@>

This is my favourite poem and now has particular significance because I
live in Dumfries and Galloway and am familiar with the Eske river and
the Solway.

I read somewhere that plans were afoot to make a film of Lochinvar, so I
do hope it will do it justice.
                                           Joan Palmer-Moore

From: jfarrington@

A friend of mine's Grandfather called all of her boyfriends Lochinvar when
she was growing up.  She now has daughters, and she calls their boy friends
Lochinvar.  She told me the story and how he was a knight.  I had to look up
the story.  It is a wonderful poem.  She laughed when I showed it to her,
and she showed it to her daughter, who also enjoyed it very much.  It is a
great poem/story.

From: "Nitin Desai" <n.desai@>


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A professor of English from Surat  Dr. Kalidas Desai, once explained to me
the vigorous metre as a subconscious reminder of the rhythm of a galloping
horse!  Many thanks for putting an old memory on the net.=0D
=0D
desaind@
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<DIV>A professor of English from Surat  Dr. Kalidas Desai, once explained to me the vigorous metre as a subconscious reminder of the rhythm of a galloping horse!  Many thanks for putting an old memory on the net.</DIV>
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From: "Elizabeth Watkin" <elizabethwatkin@>

It seems that a lot of people learnt this poem at school. I learnt it
about 40 years ago at school in Australia. It is good to read it again
to fill in the 'dum-dee-dee' bits that I had forgotten. Thanks.

From: minarcik <minarcik@>

He was a great guy and recited the poem with great enthusiasm.

Whenever we did something "naughty", e.g., forgot homework, talked in 
class, etc., in lieu of demerits he would point at us and say "LOCHINVAR!"

(which means we had to write it out)

That's why I have never forgotten this poem and can almost recite it by 
memory 46 years later!

I am sure I will remember his name.....right now "Father Cahill" sounds 
about right to me.

John Minarcik