"Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar?
For yonder, methinks, should be the shore.
Now, where we are, I cannot tell,—
I wish we heard the Inchcape Bell."
They heard no sound—the swell is strong,
Though the wind hath fallen they drift along:
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock,
"Oh heavens! it is the Inchcape Rock!"
Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,
And cursed himself in his despair;
And waves rush in on every side,
The ship sinks fast beneath the tide.
SOUTHEY.
[Notes: Robert Southey, born 1774, died 1848. Poet Laureate and author of numerous works in prose and verse.]
Quoth. Saxon Cwaethan, to say. A Perfect now used only in the first and third persons singular of the present indicative; the nominative following the verb.
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock. Notice the effective use of alliteration (i.e., the recurrence of words beginning with the same letter), which is the basis of old-English rhythm.]
* * * * *
THE DEATH OF NELSON.
It had been part of Nelson's prayer that the British fleet might be distinguished by humanity in the victory he expected. Setting an example himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the 'Redoubtable,' supposing that she had struck because her great guns were silent; for, as she carried no flag, there was no means of instantly ascertaining the fact. From this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his death. A ball, fired from her mizen-top, which, in the then situation of the two vessels, was not more than fifteen yards from that part of the deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his face, on the spot which was covered with his poor secretary's blood. Hardy (his captain), who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw three men raising him up.