| |
| NO stir in the air, no stir in the sea,— | |
| The ship was as 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 holy 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 surges’ swell, | |
| The mariners heard the warning bell; | |
| And then they knew the perilous rock, | 15 |
| And blessed 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 around, | |
| 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 bell and float: | |
| Quoth he, “My men, put out the boat; | 30 |
| And row me to the Inchcape rock, | |
| And I ’ll plague the priest 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 cut the warning bell from the float. | |
| |
| Down sank the bell with a gurgling sound; | |
| The bubbles rose, and burst around. | |
| Quoth Sir Ralph, “The next who comes to the rock | |
| Will not 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 to 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 yonder, methinks, should be the shore. | |
| Now where we are I cannot tell, | 55 |
| But I wish we 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 cursed himself in his despair. | |
| The waves rush in on every side; | |
| The ship is sinking beneath the tide. | |
| |
| But ever in his dying fear | 65 |
| One dreadful sound he seemed to hear,— | |
| A sound as if with the Inchcape bell | |
| The Devil below was ringing his knell. | |
| |
