This text comes from Sons of the Tyne's Garland, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Last Week I rambl'd to the Strand,
To have a roling shine O,
A Damsel then did sieze my Hand,
All dress'd so neat and fine O;
My Hand she press’d my Lips she kiss’d,
So cunningly did wheedle,
My Dear, said she, come go with me,
And I'll give you Wilkes's Riggle.
Then she took me up to the Ken,
And I called for a Bottle,
Her Mistress quickly brought it in,
I made the Glasses rattle,
I flash'd my clay and so Moll sly,
Did smile and tip the Giggle
I'm sure I can please any Man,
With Wilkes's pleasant Riggle.
My Girl and I then fell to work,
We rowl'd it both together
And at every move and every jerk
She call'd out Wilkes for ever:
See here's a Skin that's found within
You see I want no Doctor,
Then tipt the giggle with Wilkes's riggle
And hollowed out no Proctor.
Of all the riggles then said I,
I ne'er know such another,
My dear, said she, we'll come to it again,
As soon as you do recover:
With all my Heart I will not start,
Said I, I've no objection,
Then with each shove she cry'd my Love
Wilkes, and a free Election.
Then gently down she put one Hand,
The t'other o'er my Shoulders,
Now Liberty, he soon shall stand
And I'll back with him two Freeholders.
For I the County am you know
And you do well content me,
Therefore be true, for none but you,
Shall ever represent me.
There's many Riggles as I have heard,
Some people say there's twenty;
There's Moggy's Riggle, and Boots its true
Three Million Riggles is dainty,
But Wilkes's Riggle does beat them all
The motion is so clever,
For it makes your Eye squint with surprise
So Wilkes's Riggle for ever.