Explore "Lochinvar" by Harry Graham on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the shadow-shapes shone like a shaddock, / Where the sunset had kissed them to flame, / On his palfrey, the pick of the paddock, / With his sword in its scabbard, he came! / In the glamour of amorous passion / He would blaze like a seasoned cigar; / And he fought in a similar fashion, / Did Young Lochinvar!
By the fences and fens unaffrighted, / And unstopt by the stream in its spate, / In a lather, at last, he alighted, / And he knocked at the Netherbys' gate. / 'Twas too late! (As he doubtless had dreaded.) / He perceived his particular "star" / To a blackguard about to be wedded, / Did Young Lochinvar!