And did you ne'er hear of a jolly old punting man,
Who near Westminster his calling doth ply?
He handles his pole with such skill and dexterity,
Winning each "No" and enchanting each "Aye."
He looks so neat, he steers so steadily,
The ladies all flock to his punt so readily;
And he's so celebrated for courage and care,
That he's seldom in want of a freight or a fare.
But o'er his last passenger rivals made merry.
She did look so feeble, and frightened withal: