Nor was Jove’s rage appeased by pouring heavens.
Neptune arrived with armies of the waters,
Rivers assembled at his ocean’s floor
To hear his orders: “The hour is all short
For long orations, open your locks and dykes,
Your streaming walls, and springs, unleash the horses
Riding in foam through waterfalls and waves.”
At his command the mouths of fountains opened
Racing their mountain waters to the sea.
Under the blow of Neptune’s fork earth trembled,
And way was open for a sea of waters:
Where land was the great rivers toppled orchards,
Uncut corn, cottages, sheep, men, and cattle
Into the flood. Even stone shrines and temples
Were washed away, and if farmhouse or barn
Or palace still stood its ground, the waves
Climbed over door and lintel, up roof and tower.
All vanished as though lost in glassy waters,
Road, highway, valley, and hill swept into ocean,
All was a moving sea without a shore.
OVID- The Metamorphoses, Book I, The Flood.
I’d hit that.