Leigh Hunt - To a Fish lyrics

You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced, Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea, Gulping salt-water everlastingly, Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced, And mute, though dwellers in the roaring waste; And you, all shapes beside, that fishy be,-- Some round, some flat, some long, all devilry, Legless, unloving, infamously chaste:-- O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights, What is't ye do? What life lead? eh, dull goggles? How do ye vary your vile days and nights? How pa** your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes, and bites, And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles?