The Eye of the Storm (Part Eight)

I really like the composition of this image, which reminds me of the frozen chaos of Japanese wave paintings. Here, the curve of the waves on either side has a telescoping effect on the tiny figure at the centre of the maelstrom. Unperturbed, he wields his axe within the yellow halo. Massive part of the ballad too, this one, which details Gilliat's battle with the elements - it's as if the sea, seeing that the Frenchman has salvaged the engines, marshals all her forces to try to reclaim them... along with his soul. In peril, then, on this suitably blustery Sunday: enjoy.

PART VIII: The Eye of the Storm

His senses he scarcely dared believe –
The engines lay aboard!
He readied sail to head for home
And claim his love’s reward.

But looking up, he spied the trick
The sea had played with tide:
The hull still held the funnel’s top
As prisoner inside.

Toward the dawn, the strangest sight –
A light from ocean came…
As if it drew its fuel from night
The sea was filled with flames!

Nor furnace red, nor purple edged,
The flames were pale as ghosts:
Of souls sealed deep in ocean’s tomb
They rose to dance and boast.

The Frenchman knew to heed these signs
For he was weather-wise:
He saw a storm’s arrival which
Calm dawn could not disguise.

So straight to raid his stores of wood –
To anchors he leapt not,
And set to fashion sea defences,
His plans to leave forgot.

With planks and joists, then nails and chains
He hoist his last ramparts
Though afternoon yet lent no hint
Of storm about to start.

The ocean’s green was emerald,
The sky was cast sapphire,
The sun did glint a thousand stars:
The sea, that doe-eyed liar!

A line of birds arrowed for land
As west the cloud appeared,
And next the sky from blue to grey
A shadowy mountain reared.

The sun eclipsed, enfolded in
Its gloomy, slow embrace,
From earth to sky the granite cliff
Encircled him in space.

The wall of cloud a ceiling formed
Then crash! The thunder clapped:
And all the fury of the sea
Around Les Douvres wrapped.

Flashes of lightning, splashes of rain –
Then came the wind and waves,
In voice like hordes of chainless beasts
That roared and shrieked and raved.

Hour after hour, blow upon blow
The foam flew higher and higher,
Volleys exploding on the rocks
As loud as musket fire!

Inside his fortress fought the knight
And bold the siege defied:
His hammer strikes repairing breaks
Each thunder clap replied.

A sudden brightness breached the sky
As if the storm had ceased;
The window closed as swell uprose
And rolled in from the east…

Gigantic pillars on their sides,
Huge cylinders of glass –
They shattered over each defence
As one by one they passed.

Within the last, the shape of fins –
It seemed a living thing!
Its monstrous death upon the rocks
Away his beams did fling.

The waters seethed between the rocks –
His castle wall was down!
They sought the stronghold of the sloop,
And engines for their crown…

Above a blaze of lightning showed
Disaster was at hand:
Durande was also breaking up
And on the sloop would land.

Its mass was swinging on a hinge
With sad and grinding noise –
One half would fall safe, the other
Over his boat was poised.

The waters seethed, the hinges creaked,
His hour was almost run –
At last he grasped the means to meet
His enemies as one!

A danger is a power to some –
He mounted on the wreck,
And balanced by his axe began
To cut away the deck.

The planks were bent like leaves of books –
Beneath his feet they shook;
His strokes were notes of proud defiance
For the life he had forsook.

A furious eye upon him flexed
But hurled its lightning blind;
Its winds it whirled like ropes round night:
The storm had lost its mind.

His axe in air, the Frenchman paused –
One half about to fall –
It fell, and caught between the rocks
To form another wall.

And now the sea could only rage
Against its passage blocked,
For sloop and engine both secured
And safe inside were locked.

Its final vengeance on the wreck
Had made the storm his tool:
So turning to his vanquished foe,
He cried full-throat: “You fool!”

From blackest night to dawning light
His battle cry was heard,
For from the gloom there dashed a shape –
He blinked to glimpse a bird!

The only sound a surly growl
As rain stopped all around:
The storm had ceased as sudden as
A plank that fell to ground.

His victory quick gripped his limbs,
Fatigue pulsed through and through –
Then tumbling in his sloop, he slept,
As above the seagulls flew.

“The greater the trial,” said the priest,
“The more cause to rejoice…”
“Then follow deep to where the fiend
Did dwell,” replied the voice.