 | Love-Songs |  |
29
V. THE WIFE'S RETURN.
Deary me, what a dirty room!
Quick, my husband, bring me a broom,
And let me sweep away the gloom
That reigns when I'm not here.
Quick, my husband, bring me a broom,
And let me sweep away the gloom
That reigns when I'm not here.
This is the way you treat the place
When I, your wife, no longer grace
This home of ours with the light of my face—
'Tis enough to move a tear!
When I, your wife, no longer grace
This home of ours with the light of my face—
'Tis enough to move a tear!
Get you gone, and let me alone;
Out of the way; and when you're flown
I'll sweep it clean as if 'twere mown—
You go and fetch the beer.
Out of the way; and when you're flown
I'll sweep it clean as if 'twere mown—
You go and fetch the beer.
The only thing, I often think,
That the men are fit for is to drink
Or empty soap-suds into the sink:
I'm never away but I fear;
That the men are fit for is to drink
Or empty soap-suds into the sink:
I'm never away but I fear;
Fear for the garden most of all,
Dream of the pigs, and hear them squall,
And see the children playing at ball
On the flower-beds, far and near.
Dream of the pigs, and hear them squall,
And see the children playing at ball
On the flower-beds, far and near.
30
See the potatoes going to rot,
The peas in pieces, and what not,
The cabbages all a mouldy lot,
And never a currant clear.
The peas in pieces, and what not,
The cabbages all a mouldy lot,
And never a currant clear.
Never you mind—I'm home again,
And that's the chief thing; only when
Next time I go, be sure that then
You manage better, dear.
And that's the chief thing; only when
Next time I go, be sure that then
You manage better, dear.
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