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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 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 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 walked his deck,
And 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 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."

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'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."

"Can'st 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 has fallen, they drift along,
Till the vessel strikes, with a shivering shock,-
"O Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock!"

The Rover raved and tore his hair,
And cursed 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 Demon beneath was ringing his knell !

THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE.

BY ROBERT SOUTHEY:

[1798.]

"I KNOW not whether it be worth the reporting, that there is in Cornwall, near the parish of St. Neot's, a well, arched over with the robes of four kinds of trees,-withy, oak, elm, and ash,— dedicated to St. Keyne. The reported virtue of the water is this, that whether husband or wife come first to drink thereof, they get the mastery thereby."-FULLER.

St. Keyne, the legendary patroness of this talismanic stream, who was styled, in the ancient British language, Keyn-wiri,—i. e., Keyn the Virgin,- -was the daughter of Brachanus, or Brychan, Prince of the country of Garthmatrin, in Wales, which, from him, was afterwards called Brecknock. She died A.D. 490.-S.

A WELL there is, in the West Country,
And a clearer one never was seen;
There is not a Wife in the west country,
But has heard of the well of St Keyne.

An oak and an elm tree stand beside,
And behind does an ash tree grow,
And a willow from the bank above

Droops to the water below.

THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE.

A traveller came to the Well of St. Keyne;
Joyfully he drew nigh;

For from cock-crow he had been travelling,

And there was not a cloud in the sky.

He drank of the water so cool and clear,
For thirsty and hot was he;

And he sat down upon the bank,

Under the willow-tree.

There came a man from the neighbouring town,

At the Well to fill his pail;

On the Well-side he rested it,

And he bade the stranger hail!

"Now, art thou a bachelor, stranger?" quoth he,
For, an' if thou hast a wife,

The happiest draught thou hast drank this day
That ever thou didst in thy life.

"Or has thy good woman, if one thou hast, Ever here in Cornwall been;

For an' if she have, I'll venture my life

She has drank of the Well of St. Keyne."

"I have left a good woman, who never was here," The stranger he made reply;

But that my draught should be the better for that,

I pray you answer me why."

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"St. Keyne," quoth the Cornishman, " many a time Drank of this crystal well,

And before the angel summoned her,

She laid on the water a spell.

"If the husband of this gifted Well

Shall drink before his wife,

A happy man henceforth is he,

For he shall be master for life!

"But if the wife should drink of it first, God help the husband then!"

The stranger stooped to the Well of St. Keyne, And drank of the water again.

"You drank of the Well, I warrant, betimes?" He to the Cornishman said;

But the Cornishman smiled as the stranger spake, And sheepishly shook his head.

"I hastened, as soon as the wedding was done, And left my wife in the porch;

But i' faith she had been wiser than me,

For she took a bottle to church!"

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