Fill high the glass with ginger wine!—
On Richmond’s bridge, or Twit’nam’s shore,
Oft had I held my rod and line,—
But never had a bite before!
There was a downright tug that day;—
But ah! he tugged, and swam away!
And where is he? And where art thou,
My widow? At the Angler’s heart
Thou gav’st one mighty tug, and now
Art fled—but hast received no smart!