So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
Among bridesmen, 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—
“Oh! 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,