You can read the poem here.

I find something strangely comforting about this poem—its mood, the tranquillity of eternity being the experience of ‘rowing…slowly’ in a ‘glass bottom boat’; heaven as an endless, limpid, golden summer afternoon with nowhere to get to and nothing to do but be. There’s an relaxed, informal tone—’always looking down on us, they say’—as of one friend to another; a sense of comfort offered and shared. ‘The Dead’ is so peaceful. Perhaps that’s why it sprang to my mind. There were an awful lot of fitful fevers for my parents. I hope they rest well.