As they stood there a chattering.
And still as the rain made more noise,
And as the vind blow’d hoarser,
They heard the sound of the ’prentice boys
As if they vos coming closer.
“Oh! sparkle up,” poor Polly said,
“Though the veather be ever so cold, man,
I’d rather meet a vatery bed
Than meet my angry old man.”
The boat has left the Thames’ famed shore,