Home  |  Authors  |  Books  |  Stories 
   T h e   B a l d w i n   P r o j e c t
     Bringing Yesterday's Classics to Today's Children                 @mainlesson.com
Search This Site Only
A Child's Own Book of Verse, Book Three by  Ada M. Skinner and Frances Gillespy Wickes

Look inside ...
[Purchase Paperback Book]
A Child's Own Book of Verse, Book Three
by Ada Skinner
Third volume of A Child's Own Book of Verse, a three-volume set planned for use during the four primary years. This unusually fine collection of poetry was selected with the child's interests in mind. Includes sound rhymes and jingles to appeal to the ear, descriptive poems to create images in the mind's eye, lullabies and lyrics to warm the heart, and story-telling poems to stir the imagination. Attractively illustrated by Maud and Miska Petersham.  Ages 7-10
130 pages $8.95   





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,

The waves flow'd over the Inchcape Rock;

So little they rose, so little they fell,

They did not move the Inchcape Bell.

The good old 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 scream'd as they wheel'd round,

And there was joyance 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 he fix'd his eyes 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 priest 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 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 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 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;

Cried they, "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 fiends below were ringing his knell.


[Illustration] Hundreds of additional titles available for online reading when you join Gateway to the Classics

Learn More

 Table of Contents  |  Index  | Previous: Ceremonies for Christmas  |  Next: The Forsaken Merman
Copyright (c) 2000-2018 Yesterday's Classics, LLC. All Rights Reserved.