The prudent Ferryman sets under cover,
Waiting to take me from one shore to t'other;
I calls out "Hover!" and hover he roes,
If he aint sober then hover we goes.
When it's poring with rane and a tempest a-blowin,
A penny don't seem mutch for this here rowin;
And wen the River's as ruff as the Sea,
I thinks of the two I'd sooner be me.
For when I'm at work at Ampton or Lea,
Waitin at dinner, or waitin at tea,