Ballade About Nish

IF IT is true I do not know,
I heard it from a man called Jake
Who heard it from a man called Joe
Who found it graven on a plaque
Screwed to the handle of a rake,
In letters crabbed and heathenish.
These were the words, and no mistake: —
There are no fish
In Nish.

Across the marshes of the Po
Glide duck with their attendant drake;
In Indian jungles brightly glow
The tiger, tiger, burning Blake;
There are ten million kittiwake
And seven terns in Vatemish;
But in all Ireland not a snake
And not a fish
In Nish.

Search then for bears in Bendigo,
Seek ambergris in walrus steak,
Discover diamond dust in dough
And cadmium carbonate in cake,
Go hunting shark in Grasmere lake,
Drink whiskey from an empty dish
And cure a worm of stomach-ache;
Then find a fish
In Nish.

Prince, you may call for cod or hake
Or what you wish.
There are no saints in Savernake
Or fish
In Nish.