Set sail in the pinnance of Fancy some day,
Let the rich rosy sea I embark on be this,
And such eyes as we've here be the stars of my way!
In the meantime, a bumper—your Angels on high,
May have pleasures unknown to life's limited span;
But, as we are not angels, why—let the flask fly,
We must only be happy all ways that we can.
Oh, where art thou dreaming,
On land or on sea?