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

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

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 smiled, and so straightway in love he did fall;
And would this young damsel but banish his sorrow,
He'd wed her tonight before tomorrow;
And how should this waterman ever know care,
And how should this waterman ever know care
When he's married and never in want of a fare