“Now tread we a measure!” said young Lochinvar. 30
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 to young Lochinvar!” 36
One touch to her hand, and one word to her ear,
When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near.
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,