We show no monstrous crocodile,
Nor any prodigy of Nile;
No Remora that stops your fleet,
Like serjeant's gallants in the street;
No sea-horse which can trot or pace,
Or swim false gallop, post, or race:
For crooked dolphins we not care,
Though on their back a fiddler were:
The like to this fish, which we shew,
Was ne'er in Fish-street, old, or new;
Nor ever served to the sheriff's board,
Or kept in souse for the Mayor Lord.
Had old astronomers but seen
This fish, none else in heaven had been.