The "Three Bells" Of Glasgow

By John Greenleaf Whittier

Beneath the low-hung night cloud
That raked her splintering mast
The good ship settled slowly,
The cruel leak gained fast.

Over the awful ocean
Her signal guns pealed out.
Dear God! was that Thy answer
From the horror round about?

A voice came down the wild wind,
“Ho! ship ahoy!” its cry:
“Our stout _Three Bells_ of Glasgow
Shall stand till daylight by!”

Hour after hour crept slowly,
Yet on the heaving swells
Tossed up and down the ship-lights,
The lights of the _Three Bells_!

And ship to ship made signals,
Man answered back to man,
While oft, to cheer and hearten,
The _Three Bells_ nearer ran:

And the captain from her taffrail
Sent down his hopeful cry.
“Take heart! Hold on!” he shouted,
“The _Three Bells_ shall stand by!”

All night across the waters
The tossing lights shone clear;
All night from reeling taffrail
The _Three Bells_ sent her cheer.

And when the dreary watches
Of storm and darkness passed,
Just as the wreck lurched under,
All souls were saved at last.

Sail on, _Three Bells_, forever,
In grateful memory sail!
Ring on, _Three Bells_ of rescue,
Above the wave and gale!

Type of the Love eternal,
Repeat the Master’s cry,
As tossing through our darkness
The lights of God draw nigh!

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