ROBERT BURNS.
PART IV.
Lad and Lassie
[Illustration]
THE INCHCAPE ROCK.
The man is wrecked and his ship is sunken before he ever steps on board or sees the water if his heart is hard and his estimate of human beings low. “The Inchcape Rock” is a thrust at hard-heartedness. “What is the use of life?” To bear one another’s burdens, to develop a genius for pulling people through hard places—that’s the use of life. It is the last resort of a mean mind to crack jokes that wreck innocent voyagers on life’s sea. (1774-1843.)
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 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;
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 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.
The buoy of the Inchcape Bell
was seen,
A dark spot 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;
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 lowered, 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 sailed
away;
He scoured the sea for many
a day;
And now grown rich with plundered
store,
He steers his course for Scotland’s
shore.
So thick a haze o’erspread
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 brighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the
rising moon.”