"The Hermit-Fish, unarm’d by Nature left, Helpless, and weak, grow strong by harmless Theft. Fearful they strowl, and look with panting Wish For the cast Crust of some new-cover’d Fish; Or such as empty lie, and deck the Shore, Whose first and rightful Owners are no more. They make glad Seizure of the vacant Room, And count the borrow’ d Shell their native Home; Screw their soft Limbs to fit the winding Case, And boldly herd with the Crustaceous Race. Careless they enter the first empty Cell; Oft find the plaited Wilk’s indented Shell; And oft the deep-dy’d Purple forc’d by Death To Stranger-Fish the painted Home bequeath. The Wilk’s etch’d Coat is most with Pleasure worn, Wide in Extent, and yet but lightly born. But when they growing more than fill the Place, And find themselves hard-pinch’d in scanty Space, Compell’d they quit the Roof they lov’d before, And busy search around the pebbly Shore, Till a commodious roomy Seat be found, Such as the larger Cockles living own’d. Oft cruel Wars contending Hermits wage, And long for the disputed Shell engage. The strongest will the doubtful Prize possess, Pow’r gives him Right, and All the Claim confess."