You'd petter coom down to de Wasser,—
'Tis de pest trink ash you'll see,—
Und haf a wholesome tinner
Mit Schlopp-Vash, along mit me."
"Dere you sees de fisch a-schwimmin!
Und dere healthy efery one."
So sang dis Wasser-Maiden,
Vot hadn't got nodings on.
"Your shtrong tipplesh cost mooch money,
Dere ish death in de trinks you've sold;
Und you helps yourself, by doonder,
To de Vorkmansh hard-earned gold.
"Shoost look at doze sodden wretches,
Vhite schlafes of de Witler Rings!
From dere 'trunks' you vill your pockets,
Und you rob dem like efery dings.
"Vot dey vantsh mit your schnaps* und lager,
Vitrioled gin and doctored wine?
Smash your pottles, and preak your parrels,
Und try dese Schlopps of mine!"
* Drams, drinks.
Vill dat fetch him! He standsh as shpellbound!
She vould pool his coat-tails down.
She von't draw him oonder der Wasser—
Dat Maiden mit nodings on!
