Chapter 10
HEAVEN by Rupert Brooke Read for LibriVox.org by Lucy Perry IN BATH on July 23rd, 2016 Fish fly replete in depth of dune, dawdling away their watery noon.
Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, each secret fishy hope or fear. Fish say they have their stream and pond, but is there anything beyond? This life cannot be all, they swear,
for how unpleasant if it were! One may not doubt that, somehow, good shall come of water and of mud, and, sure, the reverent eye must see a purpose in liquidity.
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, but somewhere, beyond space and time, is wetter water, slimer slime, and there, they trust, there swimmeth one,
who swam ere rivers were begun. Immense, a 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, but more than mundane weeds are there, and mud, celestial-y fair, fat caterpillars drift around,
and paradisial grubs are found, unfading moths, immortal flies, and the worm that never dies. And in that heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish.
