Here's a bit of prose, from the 17th century, along the same lines as "Nottamun Town" and "Teague's Ramble". See also "Tom Tell-truth" and notes of traditional versions at the file and website noted above

        It was the last Monday Morning at four o'clock in the afternoon before Sun-rise, going over High-gate Hill in a Boat; I met with a man I overlooked, I asked him, if the Old Woman was dead that was drowned at Ratcliff Highway a fortnight ago; He told me he could not tell; But if I went a little further, I should meet with two men a Horse-back on a mare, in a Blew jerkin, and a pair of Freestone Breeches, & they would give me true intelligence, so when I came up with the fellows, they thought I was a Hector which came to rob them, and therefore ran from me, but I furiously pursued before them. Their horse for haste died under them, so that one of them for madness drew forth his sword and kill'd him, the horse for vexation seeing himself dead, ran away as fast as he could, leaving them to go on foot upon another horse back Forth miles. Friends said I, I mean you no harm, but pray inform me whether or no the old Woman be Dead that was drownd at Ratcliff high-way a fortnight ago, they all told me they could not tell, but if I went a little further I should meet with two men driving an empty Cart full of Apples, & a millstone in the midst, and they would give me true Intelligence; but when I came up with them, they could not satisfie me neither, but told me if I went to the water side there lived one Sir John Vangs that would give me intelligence. So going up to ye water side; I hoopt & hollowed, but could make nobody see: At last I heard six country lads & lasses fast asleep, playing at ninepins under a Haycock made of Pease straw, in the midst of the Thames, & eating of rost bag pudding freezing hot; but at last I met with two Watermen, that carried me clean over the water, and landed me up to the knees in mud, and when we were in the midst of the Thames in Ratcliff High-way, one of the she-watermen espied a swan, and swore if she had it at home, it would make a Goose-pye....... [Initially a prose broadside in 1660, then later as a chapbook.]