| |
| NO stir in the air, no stir in the sea, | |
| The ship was still as she could be; | |
| Her sails from heaven received no motion; | |
| Her keel was steady in the ocean. | |
| |
| Without either sign or sound of their shock, | 5 |
| The waves flowed over the Inchcape Rock; | |
| So little they rose, so little they fell, | |
| They did not move the Inchcape Bell. | |
| |
| The Abbot of Aberbrothok | |
| Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; | 10 |
| On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, | |
| And over the waves its warning rung. | |
| |
| When the rock was hid by the surge’s swell, | |
| The mariners heard the warning bell; | |
| And then they knew the perilous rock, | 15 |
| And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok. | |
| |
| The sun in heaven was shining gay; | |
| All things were joyful on that day; | |
| The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled round, | |
| And there was joyance in their sound. | 20 |
| |
| The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen, | |
| A darker speck on the ocean green: | |
| Sir Ralph the Rover walked his deck, | |
| And he fixed his eye on the darker speck. | |
| |
| He felt the cheering power of spring; | 25 |
| It made him whistle, it made him sing: | |
| His heart was mirthful to excess, | |
| But the Rover’s mirth was wickedness. | |
| |
| His eye was on the Inchcape float; | |
| Quoth he, “My men, put out the boat, | 30 |
| And row me to the Inchcape Rock, | |
| And I ’ll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok.” | |
| |
| The boat is lowered, the boatmen row, | |
| And to the Inchcape Rock they go; | |
| Sir Ralph bent over from the boat, | 35 |
| And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float. | |
| |
| Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound; | |
| The bubbles rose and burst around: | |
| Quoth Sir Ralph, “The next who comes to the rock | |
| Won’t bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.” | 40 |
| |
| Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away; | |
| He scoured the seas for many a day; | |
| And now, grown rich with plundered store, | |
| He steers his course for Scotland’s shore. | |
| |
| So thick a haze o’erspreads the sky, | 45 |
| They cannot see the sun on high: | |
| The wind hath blown a gale all day; | |
| At evening it hath died away. | |
| |
| On the deck the Rover takes his stand; | |
| So dark it is, they see no land. | 50 |
| Quoth Sir Ralph, “It will be lighter soon, | |
| For there is the dawn of the rising moon.” | |
| |
| “Canst hear,” said one, “the breakers roar? | |
| For methinks we should be near the shore.” | |
| “Now where we are I cannot tell, | 55 |
| But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell.” | |
| |
| They hear no sound; the swell is strong; | |
| Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along, | |
| Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock: | |
| “O Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock!” | 60 |
| |
| Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, | |
| He curst himself in his despair: | |
| The waves rush in on every side; | |
| The ship is sinking beneath the tide. | |
| |
| But even in his dying fear | 65 |
| One dreadful sound could the Rover hear,— | |
| A sound as if, with the Inchcape Bell, | |
| The Devil below was ringing his knell. | |
| |
