If I were a fish,
I’d need no rails, boats, or sails,
To travel where I wish,
North to where night early pales,
South to where summer shivers,
East to where kings reign still,
And West to where the moon most silvers,
But what I love most being a fish,
Is watching the sun rise and wake,
From every sea on this great dish,
Of earth, like a yellow cake,
Steaming and burning, hot for the taking,
But try as I might, I can never catch,
That ball of fire slipping,
Into the sea; Alas, I am no match,
Even a fish as fast as me.