Fishes, who their plyant Bodies wreath,
In whom no Bones their branching Prickles sheath;
The  Race, who crawling play,
Tho' no swoln Veins the purple Life convey;
The various  Tribes, that swifter glide,
Array'd in silver Scales, and spotted Pride;
And slow  Kinds, that constant dwell
Fixt in the Concave of the pearly Shell,
All breed alike, distill a mucous Juice
Whose bladd'ry Heaps the future Young produce.