’Twas a wreck. William, on shore he swam,
And looked about for an inn;
When a noble savage lady, of a colour rather shady,
Came up with a kind of grin:
“Oh, marry me, and a king you’ll be,
And in a palace loll;
Or we’ll eat you willy-nilly.”
So he gave his hand, did Billy,
But his heart was true to Poll.
Away a twelvemonth sped, and a happy life he led