| |
| 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 flow’d 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 scream’d as they wheel’d round, | |
| And there was joyaunce in their sound. | 20 |
| |
| The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen | |
| A darker speck on the ocean green; | |
| Sir Ralph the Rover walk’d 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 lower’d, 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 | |
| Wo’n’t bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.’ | 40 |
| |
| Sir Ralph the Rover sail’d away, | |
| He scour’d the seas for many a day; | |
| And now grown rich with plunder’d 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,— | |
| ‘Oh 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. | |
| |
