Chickens Come Home to Roost

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Do you remember that poem of Southey’s about Sir Ralph, the Rover? In Eastern Scotland, in the old days, a good man had placed a float with a bell attached on the dangerous Inchcape Rock, so that the mariners, hearing it, might keep away. This Sir Ralph, the Rover, in a moment of devilry, cut away both float and bell. It was a cruel thing to do. Years passed. Sir Ralph roamed over many parts of the world. In the end he returned to Scotland. As he neared the coast a storm arose. Where was he? Where was the ship drifting? Oh, if he only knew where he was! Oh, if he could only hear the bell on the Inchcape Rock! But years ago, in his sinful folly, he, with his own hands, had cut it away. Hark! to that grating sound heard amid the storm, felt amid the breakers; the ship is struck; the rock penetrates her, she goes to pieces, and, with curses of rage and despair, the sinner’s sin has found him out; he sinks to rise no more until the great day of judgment.

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