After a vision of Fr. Balthassar Mas, 1630
I dreamed of a great inundation, everything swallowed
by a wave moving up the Thames like a leviathan
until only England’s highest turrets and steeples
reached above the flood. The best were saved,
lords and ladies on their battlements, clergymen
clinging to spires, hems of cassocks pulled away
from the drowning and the drowned.
Finally God sent a rainbow as the waters receded
a little. Those left were relieved and arranged
causeways of the heaped-up dead to France
or were rescued by strange flying contraptions
which swooped down like angels and took them
to the fertile lands round the Nile and Red Sea
where they were greeted by many thousands
and went on to found new and better Englands.