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Poem	Young Lochinvar came in from the West, With fringe on his trousers and fur on his vest; The width of his hat-brim could nowhere be beat, His No. brogans were chuck full of feet, His girdle was horrent with pistols and things, And he flourished a handful of aces on kings. The fair Mariana sate watching a star, When who should turn up but the young Lochinvar! Her pulchritude gave him a pectoral glow, And he reined up his hoss with stentorian "Whoa!" Then turned on the maiden a rapturous grin, And modestly asked if he might n't step in. With presence of mind that was marvellous quite, The fair Mariana replied that he might; So in through the portal rode young Lochinvar, Pre-empted the claim, and cleaned out the bar. Though the justice allowed he wa'n't wholly to blame, He taxed him ten dollars and costs, just the same.
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