Fish replete in depth of June
Dawdling away their wat’ry noon
Ponder deep wisdom dark or clear
Each secret fishy hope or fear

This life cannot be all they swear
For how unpleasent if it were
One may not doubt that somehow good
Shall come of water and of mud

We darkly know by faith we cry
The future is not wholly dry
Mud unto mud death eddies near
Not here the appointed end not here

And there they trust there swimmeth one
Who swam ere rivers were begun
Immense of fishy form and mind
Squamous, omnipotent and kind
And under that almighty fin
The littlest fish may enter in
Oh never fly conceals a hook
Fish say in the Eternal Brook