Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar!
So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
’Mong 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 wooed 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