A Wild Duck on the Thames

That singular duck died along that shore
And yet its shadow sails across the screen
Deep black against yellow, a sunset scene
A quacking intro to Saint Thomas More

Ducks die, and martyrs too, but still the Thames
Flows languidly to London and the sea
This water-song of our Island history
Our scurrilous ballads and sacred hymns

Sung merrily past monuments in stone
In praise of our Island’s Altars and Throne

 (And there are waterfowl)

[Cf. the opening credits of A Man for All Seasons, 1966]