From Robert Southeys Minor Poems, Vol. III p.148 Inchcape Rock 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,

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;

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,

And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok The Sun in the 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.

The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen

A darker speck on the ocean green;

Sir Ralph the Rover walkd his deck,

And fixd his eye on the darker speck.

He felt the cheering power of spring,

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,

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,

And he cut the bell from the Inchcape 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,

Wont bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.

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,

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.

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,

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,

Oh Christ! It is the Inchcape Rock!

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,

One dreadful sound could the Rover hear;

A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,

The Devil below was ringing his knell.

Robert Southey (1820)