”
” Row me across, handsome sailor
Row me to the Rialto.
Here, take this necklace as your recompense;
I earmarked it for you long ago.
The sailor says: “No, Gianetta!
That fee is really too small,
And if I am to row you across
It cannot be for such a price!”
Row me across, handsome sailor,
I know a wondrously lovely song,
I shall sing it for you while the gondola
Glides over the soft waves.
The sailor says: “No, Gianetta!
I will not row for such a wage,
Of what use is your most beautiful song?
The sweet sounds vanish all too quickly!”
Take this wreath of roses as a fee,
It is the best thing that I possess,
On Easter morning the bishop
Blessed and consecrated it.
The sailor says: “No, Gianetta!
The wreath of roses is not enough for me,
Have you nothing better to give…
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First Night History 
What a quaint little song. It seems that the 19th century was happy with this sort of innuendo, though chances are it might well have seemed scandalous at the time!
Best wishes, Pete.
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