I may be smelly, and I may be old, Rough in my pebbles, reedy in my pools, But where my fish float by I bless their swimming And I like the people to bathe in me, especially women. But I can drown the fools Who bathe too close to the weir, contrary to rules. And they take their time drowning As I throw them up now and then in a spirit of clowning. Hi yih, yippity-yap, merrily I flow, O I may be an old foul river but I have plenty of go. Once there was a lady who was too bold She bathed in me by the tall black cliff where the water runs cold, So I brought her down here To be my beautiful dear. Oh will she stay with me will she stay This beautiful lady, or will she go away? She lies in my beautiful deep river bed with many a weed To hold her, and many a waving reed. Oh who would guess what a beautiful white face lies there Waiting for me to smooth and wash away the fear She looks at me with. Hi yih, do not let her Go. There is no one on earth who does not forget her Now. They say I am a foolish old smelly river But they do not know of my wide original bed Where the lady waits, with her golden sleepy head. If she wishes to go I will not forgive her.