The Jolly Waterman

And did you not hear of a jolly young waterman Who at Blackfriars bridge us'd for to ply? He feather'd his oars with such skill and dexterity, Winning each heart, and delighting each eye; He look'd so neat, and he row'd so steadily; The maidens all flock'd to his boat so readily; And he ey'd the young rogues with so charming an air, That this waterman ne'er was in want of a fair.

What sights of fine folks he oft row'd in his wherry; 'Twas clean'd out so neat, and painted withall; He was always first oars, when the fine city ladies In a party to Ranelagh went, or Vauxhall: And oftentimes wou'd they be giggling and leering, But 'twas all one to Tom, their gibing or jeering; For loving, or liking, he little did care, For this waterman ne'er was in want of a fair.

And yet but to see how strangely things happen— As he row'd along thinking of nothing at all, He was ply'd by a damsel, so lovely and charming, That she smil'd, and so straightway in love he did fall: And wou'd this young damsel but banish his sorrow, He'd wed her to-night, before it was morrow; Then how should this waterman ever know care, When he's married, and never in want of a fair?