And then were these fishers a-groaning.
Three fishers all blistered crawled homeward intent
With cussing their luck and without any bait,
And also without the small fortune they’d spent
For one old sea-robin, a crab and a skate,
But then—if the wind or the tide had been right,
Or different bait, or fishes would bite,
These fishers would not be a-groaning.
Three fishers went telling some terrible lies
Of how they returned with a ton or so weight;